#me over my morning coffee: i think it's Time

[mrsfancyferrari]

Baby Fever

Summary: OP81 + babysitting a child

Song: Melting · Kali Uchis

Author’s note: Please like, reblog and share this! 🫶

Word count: 2.8k

It was a sunny Saturday morning when Oscar and you arrived at your sister's house, the soft sound of laughter echoing from within. Today was your day to babysit little Olivia, your sister’s five-month-old daughter.

You had always adored Olivia, with her bright blue eyes and wisps of golden hair that caught the light like spun sugar. But you weren't prepared for what the day would unfold.

As you stepped through the door, the smell of fresh coffee greeted you two, wrapping around you like a warm embrace, and you caught sight of your sister bustling around the kitchen, prepping snacks and leaving last-minute instructions.

The moment felt charged with anticipation. Your sister turned, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm, and you felt your heart lift in response.

“Hey! You guys are right on time!” she said, beaming at you two. “Olivia has been waiting for you!”

You couldn’t help but smile. “I hope she’s not too much trouble,” you said, glancing over at Oscar, who had just caught sight of the little one.

His face lit up with joy, and a sense of warmth filled the room.

“Oh, she’s a delight,” your sister reassured you, her voice brimming with affection. “But she can be a handful when she wants to be!”

You two made your way to the living room, where Olivia was nestled in a playpen, surrounded by colorful toys that seemed to dance with life. Each toy was a vibrant splash of color, a cheerful invitation for play.

As soon as Olivia spotted Oscar, her face lit up with excitement, a burst of pure, unfiltered joy.

“Look at that!” you exclaimed, nudging Oscar playfully. “She’s smitten with you already!”

“Hey there, little princess!” Oscar cooed, crouching down to Olivia’s level. His voice was soft and gentle, and it sent a flutter through your stomach—a reminder of the simple, profound magic that occurs when love is shared.

Olivia squealed in delight, waving her tiny arms and kicking her little legs in a frenzy of happiness. It was a sight that melted your heart, igniting a warmth that spread throughout your being.

You couldn’t help but grab your phone and snap a picture of Oscar leaning into the playpen, his eyes full of warmth and affection.

“C’mon, smile for the camera!” you said, trying to contain your own excitement, feeling the rush of happiness bubble within you.

Oscar glanced up, a playful grin on his face. “Is this going on your Instagram? I better look good!”

“Oh, don’t worry. You look adorable,” you teased, capturing the moment forever in digital form.

“Can you send me that later? I need to update my profile pic,” he chuckled, returning his attention to Olivia, who was now trying to grab his finger, her tiny grip conveying a strength beyond her size.

You and Oscar spent the next few hours immersed in Olivia's world, playing with her as if she were the sun and you two were the planets, spinning around her light.

Oscar was surprisingly great with her, holding her securely while making silly faces and sounds that sent ripples of laughter cascading from her lips. Olivia giggled, her laughter ringing like the sweetest music—a melody that filled the space around you and made everything feel right.

“Wow, you’ve got a talent for this,” you said, watching as he expertly balanced her on his knee, his hands cradling her tiny frame with such care. “Have you done this before?”

“Not a lot,” he replied, his cheeks flushing slightly. “But I guess it just comes naturally when you’re around a cutie like her.”

“Oh, so you think she’s cute?” you teased, leaning closer to them, the playful banter weaving a tapestry of connection between you two.

“Of course! But you’re cuter,” he said, giving you a cheeky wink, and your heart raced at the exchange, at the ease with which he moved between playful flirtation and sincere affection.

You rolled your eyes playfully, but inside, you felt a warmth spread through you, a glow that lingered long after his words. As the day went on, you found yourself taking more pictures, wanting to capture every fleeting moment of joy.

There was something so tender about Oscar gently bouncing Olivia on his knee or the way he would rock her to sleep, humming a tune softly, the sound melding seamlessly with the soft hum of the world outside.

“I think she’s ready for a nap,” Oscar said, glancing down at the baby, who was now starting to rub her eyes, tiny fists balled in the universal sign of sleepiness.

“Yeah, I think so too,” you agreed, feeling a sense of purpose as you two moved to put her down. “Let’s put her in her crib.”

Oscar followed your lead, and you worked together seamlessly, like a well-rehearsed duet. He carefully laid Olivia down, tucking her in with her favorite blanket while you dimmed the lights, creating a cocoon of comfort.

As she drifted off, you noticed the way Oscar’s expression softened, a hint of wonder in his eyes.

“Look at her,” he whispered, his voice barely above a breath. “She’s perfect.”

“She really is,” you agreed, feeling a tug at your heart. “You’re really good with her, Oscar. I can see you being a great dad one day.”

He turned to you, surprise flashing across his face. “You think so?”

“Definitely,” you said, biting your lip to suppress a grin. “You’ve got the whole caring thing down. Just look at you!”

Oscar chuckled softly, running a hand through his hair, the gesture endearing in its familiarity. “Well, I’m glad you think so. I guess spending a day with Olivia isn’t so bad.”

Once Olivia was sound asleep, you retreated to the kitchen, where you two prepared a quick lunch. The atmosphere was light and easy, filled with the gentle clatter of dishes and the sweet sound of laughter.

As you ate, the conversation flowed effortlessly, like a river finding its course.

“So, do you want kids someday?” you asked, more curious than you realized. It was a question that hung in the air, a thread connecting your hearts in this intimate moment.

He paused, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. “Yeah, I think so. Maybe a couple. How about you?”

“I’ve always wanted a family,” you admitted, surprised at your own candidness, your heart racing as you shared you thoughts. “But I guess I never thought about it too much until today.”

“Why today?” he asked, leaning forward, clearly intrigued, his eyes sparkling with curiosity.

You shrugged, a little shyly. “I don’t know. I just see how good you are with Olivia, and it kind of makes me think...”

“Think what?” he pressed gently, his eyes searching yours, a mix of wonder and warmth enveloping you two.

“Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to have a little one of our own one day,” you confessed, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks, the weight of your words lingering between you two.

Oscar’s smile widened, and he reached across the table, taking your hand in his, a gesture that felt monumental in its simplicity. “Well, I’d be honored if we got to do that together someday.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the thought, and you squeezed his hand, a grin spreading across your face, a feeling of belonging blooming within you. “Yeah, me too.”

As the afternoon wore on and Olivia woke up, you found yourselves wrapped up in her giggles once again. It was a day filled with joy, laughter, and an unexpected revelation about your future together.

By the end of it, as Oscar and you watched Olivia play, you felt a longing in your heart that you hadn’t anticipated—a longing for a family and perhaps for a life with Oscar that included more than just babysitting your sister's baby.

This little adventure had opened a door you didn't know existed, and it felt like the start of something profound.

As you snapped one last picture of Oscar and Olivia, their faces illuminated with joy, you couldn’t help but feel that this was just the beginning of something beautiful, a story waiting to unfold—one where laughter, love, and the pitter-patter of tiny feet might one day fill your home, creating memories that would last a lifetime.

The soft glow of the TV illuminated the cozy living room as the cheerful tunes of Cocomelon filled the air. You were nestled into the couch, a warm blanket draped over you and your boyfriend, Oscar, as Olivia gurgled and babbled in your arms.

The sweet smell of baby lotion lingered around you, and the world outside seemed to fade away, the chaotic hum of daily life replaced by the serene rhythm of laughter and animated melodies.

In this intimate cocoon, time felt suspended, as if you were in a little world of your own—a beautiful sanctuary where nothing else mattered but the warmth of your family and the joy radiating from a baby’s laughter.

“This is the life,” Oscar murmured, glancing down at the baby who was enthralled by the animated characters dancing across the screen.

He wrapped an arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer, and you could feel the tenderness in his touch. “I could get used to this.” His voice was soft, laced with affection, and it made your heart flutter.

You smiled, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. “Me too. I mean, look at her. She’s adorable.” You gently bounced Olivia on your knee, eliciting a giggle from the little one, a sound so pure and delightful that it seemed to resonate deep within your soul.

Her bright eyes sparkled with excitement, reflecting the colorful images dancing on the screen, and in that moment, you felt an overwhelming surge of love and protectiveness over this tiny being.

“She really is,” Oscar said, leaning down to plant a soft kiss on Olivia’s forehead. “You’re the cutest little munchkin in the whole wide world, aren’t you?”

Olivia clapped her tiny hands in response, her eyes sparkling with delight, a captivating sight that filled the room with an infectious energy.

The peaceful atmosphere was suddenly interrupted by the sound of the front door creaking open, the familiar sound that signaled the arrival of your sister, Claire.

She walked in, her arms filled with grocery bags, a picture of bustling energy. As she caught sight of the scene in the living room, a broad grin broke across her face, illuminating her features.

“Wow, you two already look the part!” she exclaimed, setting her bags down on the table with a flourish. “Should I be worried about leaving you alone with her?” There was a teasing lilt in her voice, an underlying sense of pride mingling with her playful skepticism.

You chuckled, looking up at your sister, your heart swelling with warmth. “We’ve got it under control! Right, babe?” You directed the question at Oscar, who nodded vigorously, his eyes sparkling with determination.

“Absolutely,” Oscar replied, his voice filled with confidence. “We make a great team.” The words hung in the air, heavy with meaning, and you felt a sense of unity and shared purpose envelop you both.

“Are you sure you don’t need us to take care of her for a little longer?” you begged, tightening your hold on Olivia as she reached out for your hair, her tiny fingers tangling in the strands.

The innocent curiosity of a child always seemed to capture your heart, igniting a desire to protect and nurture.

Claire raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile playing on her lips. “You know you can’t keep her forever, right?” The playful challenge in her voice made you laugh, a sound filled with playful defiance.

“I mean, we could if we really wanted to,” you said, playfully sticking your tongue out at her. “Look at how much fun we’re having! Cuddling, watching shows, and—”

“And learning all about the joys of diaper changing?” Claire interjected, her voice dripping with sarcasm, making you burst into laughter.

“Okay, maybe we don’t have that part down just yet,” Oscar admitted, glancing at you with a smirk, and the lightheartedness of the moment made your heart feel light. “But we can handle it. We’ve been practicing our ‘baby talk’ and everything.”

“Baby talk?” Claire laughed, shaking her head. “I don’t think that’s a skill you need to master. But it’s sweet you’re both so eager.”

You smiled at Oscar, feeling a rush of affection for him. “I really am grateful you decided to come with me to babysit. It’s nice to see you in this light.” The sincerity in your voice resonated with the deeper emotions swirling around in your chest.

Oscar looked a bit flustered but pleased, his cheeks tinting slightly with a hint of pink. “Well, it’s nice to see you in this light too. You’re a natural.” The compliment washed over you like a warm wave, igniting a spark of joy and validation.

“Okay, okay, enough with the mushy stuff!” Claire teased, plopping down onto the couch beside you, breaking the moment with her playful interruption. “I just came from the store, and I brought some treats. How about a snack break?”

“Please tell me you brought cookies!” you said, your eyes lighting up at the prospect of a sweet indulgence.

The thought of chocolate chip cookies brought a flood of childhood memories, evoking a sense of nostalgia that made you yearn for those simpler days.

“Of course! But you have to share with Olivia,” Claire replied, winking at her niece. “The more sugar, the more energy, right?”

You groaned playfully, feigning horror. “Oh no, we’ll never get her to sleep!” The thought of a hyperactive Olivia was amusing, and you could already envision the chaotic giggles and squeals that would ensue.

“That’s what makes it fun!” Oscar chimed in, clearly enjoying the lighthearted banter. “More giggles, less sleep!” His eyes sparkled with enthusiasm, and you couldn’t help but laugh, caught up in the camaraderie of the moment.

Claire started unpacking her bags, revealing an array of snacks: cookies, fruit snacks, and juice boxes. As she handed you a cookie, you took a bite, savoring the rich chocolate melting in your mouth.

“Delicious!” you declared, grabbing another one before Olivia could spot them. But Olivia had already caught sight of the brightly colored juice boxes and was reaching out for one, her eyes wide with curiosity.

“Looks like we’ve got a little juice thief on our hands,” Claire said, chuckling as you quickly grabbed a juice box for Olivia. “Here you go, little one,” you said, handing it over.

Olivia squealed in delight, her tiny hands clasping the juice box, and you watched in pure joy as she took her first sip, her little face lighting up with joy that seemed to radiate around the room.

“See? We’re perfect at this,” you said, feeling a swell of pride as Olivia squeaked and wiggled with excitement.

Oscar leaned back against the couch, watching you with admiration, his gaze softening as it met yours.

“I could definitely get used to this family dynamic,” he said quietly, his words carrying a weight that made your heart flutter.

“Me too,” you replied, your heart swelling with warmth.

The joy of the moment made you realize that this was more than just babysitting; it was a glimpse into a future you both could build together, a shared vision that filled you with hope and longing.

As Olivia continued to giggle and bounce in your lap, you exchanged a knowing look with Oscar, a silent agreement passing between you.

This was just the beginning of many more beautiful moments to come, a preview of the laughter, the joy, and the unbreakable bond that family could create.

In the warmth of that living room, surrounded by the comforting presence of your loved ones, you felt a profound sense of belonging and the thrilling promise of a life filled with love and laughter ahead.

“So about that baby fever of yours?” Oscar whispers, leaning in closer, his breath tickling your ear. You feel a shiver run down your spine as he presses himself against you.

“What? Do you have it too?” you tease, your heart racing slightly as you turn to look at him, your playful smile lighting up your face.

He nods, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Maybe I do. Maybe I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately.”

[777heavengirl]

the one with the telephone

sirius black x reader ! - 2,450 words masterlist bags masterlist A/N: i have ZERO impulse control- enjoy!!! also i am sorry in advance my beta reader told me i was evil

Sirius Black was, contrary to popular belief, a patient man. It was a trait that was overshadowed by quick quips and even brasher decision-making. But when he needed to be. He was.

As the two of you fell back into the cloying domestic tendencies you once had, he could feel the desperation prick at his skin, like electricity coursing through his veins.

He was getting antsy, the need to have you closer than ever, to feel your lips on his, to hold you, it was all getting too much.

“What time are you coming back lovely?” He settled on embracing the fact that you had to work, he’d get that sorted out eventually. 

Someday he’d convince you. 

You rolled your eyes when he told you this fact. At least he was honest.

“Five dummy- I told you this already-” You walked over to the corner of the kitchen where he stood, and poured coffee into the cup in his hand. You stifled a yawn as you spoke. 

“Oi-” he was quick, so quick you could feel the coffee slosh violently around the pot as he pulled you by your waist. His head rested on your shoulder, long hair tickling your neck, his fingers dug into your sides enough to make you reflex away but his hold didn’t let you. "Dont call me stupid-”

“I didn’t call you stupid- there is a clear difference” You gave him a toothy smile, teasing. He couldn't help but stare at your face, the soft curve of your lip, the mound of your cheeks. Your eyes met briefly, and you tried to swallow the small gasp that threatened to leave your lip.

A beat of silence. He just smiled at you softly.

You pursed your lips in a fake scold “I gotta go stupid- let me go”

He groaned, but his hold on your waist loosened enough for you to start moving away.

“Good morning you two-” Remus walked through the door and you and Sirius let out a chorus of Morning’s. “How are we feeling this fine day?” A small smirk played on his lips as he rounded the corner of your kitchen, plucking the cup of coffee from Sirius’s hand, the boy’s protest falling on deaf ears, and pressing a kiss to the top of your head. 

“Where’s Pete?”

“At his nan’s” Remus settled on one of your stools, tall back hunching slightly as he sipped his coffee. “Poor lad always comes back with indigestion- she feeds him too much apparently-”

“Ah yes” you smiled, suppressing a giggle “I’m sure he’s mighty upset about that”

“Imagine the amount of food that woman has to be making- fucking vacuum that man” Sirius barked out, a laugh falling from all of your lips. 

“Well I gotta get going, otherwise I’ll be late- bye Rem-” you ruffled his light hair, the strands sticking in all directions as you shook his head slightly, the tall boy hummed in a sort of goodbye, “goodbye stupid- see you tonight-” 

“Yeah yeah-” Sirius sauntered over to meet you by the door, “don’t be late- you said five, not a minute later yeah?” He pressed a tender kiss to your cheek, soft and slow enough to make your breath hitch, he leaned on the open door, his hand under your jaw. “good luck at work love-”

You stuttered a small thank you and bye as you went through the door, Sirius closing it behind you. You could feel the heat crawl up your neck, small jitters running through your limbs.

There was no time to think about that now. You focused on the back alley of the office, eyes closed as the air twisted and turned, sucking you in and spitting you back out. 

“What in the bloody hell was that Pads?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about Moons-” Sirius locked the door behind him, padding over to the kitchen and pouring a second cup of coffee “I don't appreciate the theft of my coffee by the way-”

“Come off it- you were basically about to jump each other” Remus retorted with a roll of his eyes. Sirius stopped, groaning into his hands. “How many times have we had this conversation Padfoot?”

“Many,” he said, voice muffled by his hands

“Exactly-” Remus rolled his eyes, taking the last swing of his coffee “You need to do it- I promise she feels the same” Sirius groaned into his hands again.

-

It was hard, although you didn’t dislike the job you got, answering the phone to muggles that pressed and pressed about trips and airplanes, and tickets to all sorts of transportation and places. It was hard, and it was tiring. It felt somehow worse than that, it felt futile. 

It had nothing to do with your life anymore, you may live in muggle London, but it did not change the fact that your life had revolved and had continued to do so around magic. It was a different world, different people, different needs and wants and lifestyles. 

You wondered how much more of this you could take as you bid farewell to the other girls on your shift, a tight smile on your lips.

You swore you might’ve ripped the door to the small travel office off its hinges as you walked out at exactly 5 p.m. Quickly apparating from the back alley directly into your room, the gush of air and twisting through space making your head spin as you stood in the middle of your room. You were quick to drop your bag on your bed, and swung your door open, calling out to Sirius

“I know I’m like two minutes late- no need to wail”

“You promised-” You heard him huff as you walked through the door, eyes landing on Sirius as he lounged on the couch, cheek pressed against the cushion. “Welcome home baby-”

You could feel your stomach do flips at the new nickname, it was cloying and far too endearing. You could feel the heat under your skin. 

“Were you sleeping? You bum-” Sirius rubbed his eyes and stretched, feet kicking off the blanket that had been haphazardly covering him onto the floor.

“And so what if I was? Hm? Is it such a crime?” He retorted, and you laughed as you approached, his arm extending to grab your hand. He pressed a chaste kiss on your knuckles. 

“No- just awfully lazy of you Black- I worked like a dog day and night for you to sit here and do nothing?” you tskd repeatedly “You make a horrid housewife-”

He laughed and pulled your hand, hard enough to bring you down on top of him. Both of his arms enveloped you, rolling onto his side so you were facing each other on your sides. Your arm settled and stretched out, and he was quick to lay his head on it. The tight space of the couch made you wonder if he was halfway out so you brought him closer, breaths intermingling, heat radiating from your skin. Your legs tangled together.

“Didn’t know we were playing house-” Despite the tease, and the slight smirk that played on his lips, his words were a mere whisper “Just because I don’t work I gotta cook and clean? Awfully stereotypical of you love- didn’t expect it from you” 

“Oh please- what else would you do all day?”

“Mhm, so what I hear is that you do wanna play house with me?” 

You rolled your eyes at him, but the closeness didn’t let you retort back- words caught in your throat. You were so aware of his hands, the way they squeezed you closer and fingers traced spirals on the exposed skin of your hip that you failed to notice the moment when his face got, impossibly, closer.

You didn't think you had ever been this close. Your foreheads finally pressed against each other.

It was easy to fall into this closeness, as new as exciting as it felt, it was still easy.

“Sirius-” You felt breathless

“Yes love?” Your eyes met his striking grey ones. He hummed in question when you didn’t answer, tongue flickering out to wet his bottom lip. He swallowed thickly. 

“I love you” You knew he knew that. But this time, you hoped he’d understand-

“Thank Godric-” His lips finally touched yours, softly, experimentally. It started as a breathless kiss, one that made your head spin and the tips of your fingers tingle. It quickly grew into something more- the way he held you impossibly tight, hands digging into your hips, thumbs pressing circles into your lower stomach. Your fingers intertwined with his hair as he dragged you on top of him, but he never dared to break the kiss. Lips moving against each other, the slip of tongue, the gasps that left your mouth when he kissed you harder. 

He felt frantic, the same desperation that had haunted him for years poured out of him with every squeeze and kiss and bite. He could feel the ghost of a smile on your lips as he kissed you, and his own lips soon mirrored it.

The phone rang. 

Loud and ringing in the far corner of the kitchen. You finally parted to look up at it, the little red light blinking at the incoming call.

“I’m going to kill them-” Sirius groaned as you sat up, you laughed as you pecked his lips and his neck cranked tightly to look at it too. You both stared at the machine until it stopped ringing, a laugh ripping from you as he brought you back down, hands holding your cheeks, lips immediately slotting against yours. 

He thinks he could get lost in your lips forever. 

But he heard it again. 

A groan reverberated through his chest as the phone started ringing once more. You got off of him, legs wobbly and clumsy as you stood up, his hand clutched yours pulling at it slightly.

The phone kept on ringing.

“Please tell me you’re going to unplug the bloody thing-”

“Sirius we have to answer-”

“No we don’t,”

“What if something’s happened hm?” the phone rang out

“They can do without us love-” 

“You’re going to feel terrible if something wrong and we were sitting here… you know” The phone stopped ringing, and Sirius’s plump lips broke into a wolfish grin. You ignored the excitement at the pit of your stomach.

You turned to look at the phone as he pulled you closer again

“No I don't know,” he smirked, and you squirmed under his gaze “Pray do tell— we were sitting here doing what?”

“You’re horrible Black,” You stopped next to the couch, his lips pressed against your hand and he tried pulling you down again. “You’re going to feel terrible if it’s James and we’re sitting here…” he raised his eyebrow “snogging” 

Sirius barked out a laugh and you could feel a deep blush fight to make its way up to your cheeks.

The phone’s ringing started up again.

“Bloody hell! Just go pick it up” he stood up now too, laughing incredulously as he followed you to the phone. He wrapped his arms around your torso as you picked up the receiver. 

“Hello?”

“Where were you?” Your dad’s voice broke through the static, angry and loud. Sirius laid his head on your shoulder, lips pressing kisses the stretch of your neck. His hands went under the wrinkled white button-up to squeeze at your sides. He fought the urge to explore further and you tried your best not to giggle.

“I just got back from work- what happened?”

“If I call you answer-”

“Jesus dad-” you let out a breathless giggle, as Sirius placed a kiss behind your ear. “I was just busy, can you just tell me what's wrong? There’s some stuff I need to… get to”

“Did you decide yet?” 

“Decide what Dad?” Sirius pressed up against you more, a kiss on your cheek as your dad’s voice cut through again

“If you’re moving out” Sirius froze in his tracks, all movement seizing. The echo from the phone was low, but he could nevertheless hear the words “I already told you, I have a guy that is renting this apartment close to us-” You could feel your heart in your throat.

“Godric- No Dad-”

“You aren’t thinking things through y/n”

“I’m not moving out Dad- I’ve told you this multiple times”

“You told me that you would think about it-”

“Okay well I have- I thought about it and I would rather stay here, I’m happy here” Sirius’s hold loosened, and hot tears gathered in your eyes. “I’m not going anywhere” You grabbed his arm as it fell away from your torso, his hand clutched yours instinctively. “I really don’t want to talk about this anymore Dad-”

“You’re making the wrong choice-”

“No dad,” You turned now, Sirius stood a mere two feet away, staring blankly at you. Tears threatened to fall from your eyes. “I just can’t- I have to go-” You quickly hung the phone up, not letting him get another word in. 

“Sirius-”

“You wanted to move out?”

“No-” you sighed, the knot that formed in your throat quickly tightening until it felt sore “he keeps telling me I should-”

“How could you not have told me-”

“Told you what Sirius? I got a job and you freaked out�� Imagine if I told you that my father wanted me to get out of here because he has some twisted idea of what I should be doing with my life” You tried your best to get the words out without crying.

He rubbed his eyes with his free hand, sighing in defeat. 

“I can’t believe you”

“Oh please-” your lip wobbled, tears started falling from your eyes, dotting your cheeks. “You’re one to talk- you’ve had a foot in the door the entire time we’ve lived here”, you said, the words biting even to your ears. 

He still held onto your hand.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” He said as he finally turned to look you in the eye, the hurt that flashed in his eyes quickly replaced with shame as he saw your tears.

“You’ve never unpacked your trunk, Sirius! It’s been sitting there- practically packed for two years, and I- Merlin I can’t believe you’re upset about the fact that my father- not even me wanted me to move when you’re the one that’s been basically ready to go-” the tears flowed freely, and the unmeasurable weight of the anxiety over him leaving, the one you carried with you every day since you moved in, finally washed over you like waves. 

Each of you squeezed your hands harder, grabbing onto each other despite the sting of your words.

“It’s the fact that I’ve spent the past two years thinking I’ll wake up to you walking out the door with your bags”

taglist ; @thatlittlered @giuli-in-earth @notsolong-pause @niceonejames7 @caspiankingofnarnia @ilovejamespottersomuch @bmyva1entine @lanadelreykt @froggiedragon @stanzie @theendofthematerialgworl @featherlightfairysworld @plk-18 @coldthinghairdobakery

[kateswallofweird]

EX-BOYFRIEND DICK GRAYSON . . .

dick grayson x reader who drinks coffee (though the coffee doesn't rlly add to or take from the plot so !); cw angst ish, highs and lows of a relationship

💭 a reminder that love isn't supposed to hurt. it might sting and it might be rough, but it isn't supposed to ache. take care of yourself and protect your heart xo

PART 2 HERE

being in love with dick grayson was like hot chocolate on a cold winter night and the first fall of snow upon season's change. he was warmth and light laughter. he was diving into the deep end of a pool and coming up for air when you thought you'd gone too far. he was brightness—your single star against the cerulean backdrop of the vast night sky.

but loving dick grayson was also silence after a long night. it was watchful eyes and rising tension despite your confusion. it was changing topics and a dismissive laugh, empty and unsettling. it was the cold creeping up and blanketing you in a chill you couldn't escape. it was midnight blue—a darkness that didn't seem all encompassing until you were stranded in the middle.

loneliness is a gut punch when you're surrounded by love but kept from it by distance. it's the hurt you feel at night, the ache that grows in your heart. it's knowing that things are over before it is, and the final act of desperation before joy evades you and light slips through your fingers. it's drowning without water and suffocating in your own desolation.

"i'm sorry."

your relationship had ended with a simple apology and unsaid words. there were no tears shed, no screaming match, no final attempt to stay together. there was only bitterness (of a love so great lost) and the sad realization of the end upon you (one long time coming).

but that was two years ago. things were changed. you were changed, and you had healed (though his initials were still etched into you). dick grayson was a thing of the past, or so you were convinced.

"it's . . . it's been a while, hasn't it?"

crackly like his connection was weak, his voice filtered through the speaker of your phone from your inbox of messages left from missed calls. he'd changed his number.

"i got a new phone and changed my number this morning. some wayne stalker situation. and bruce, he said to call him first, but i—" he laughed lightly like he couldn't believe himself, "i found myself dialing you instead. apparently, i still have your number memorized."

and you stilled in your kitchen, nursing your mug of scalding coffee, because what if you moved and you realized all of this wasn't real?

"i've been thinking a lot these days . . . about you, about us." he took a deep breath. "i messed up. i see it now. i'm sorry."

memories of your fights fought to the front of your mind, the scars his sharp words brandished on you and the fresh wounds your insults left on him. loving dick grayson was worth it, but it certainly wasn't easy.

"and i miss you. i hope that isn't too selfish of me." he cleared his throat, and you set your mug down to pick up your phone. "oh, it's dick by the way . . . in case you happen to have any other ex-boyfriends hitting your line. not that i'm wondering." he mumbled something under his breath that the phone didn't quite pick up, but a smile betrayed you. you could practically imagine his sheepish expression.

"so goodbye i guess," he said, his voice a lot closer to the microphone now as hesitance rang thick. "and um now you have my number, which i realize now you may not want, but if you ever feel some urge to, uh, call me—you can, and i'll answer. no matter what."

the line clicked and the message ended, leaving only the ghost of dick grayson and a whisper of your ex-boyfriend in your kitchen.

💭 how are we feeling dick grayson nation? attacked? comforted? good? bad? well there's going to be a part 2 (it's on the way!) so hang on tight ig!

[yurikosinterlude]

hi 💓💓

can you write a drabble of megumi fushiguro and the reader enemies to lovers??

cw: {enemies to lovers, academic rivals to lovers, fluff, kind of spicy (?)} wc: 700

megumi fushiguro hated your guts. it wasn't really unlike him to feel this way towards people, it seemed he hated everyone except for his friends (yuji is debatable). megumi's hatred for you, though, was...different. he couldn't get you out of his mind, he'd stay awake at night because even the mere thought of you made him so upset that he couldn't sleep.

you were perfect. perfect from your grades to your cursed technique, so in your mind, it was natural for megumi to be intimidated by you.

you decided to use this intimidation to your advantage, teasing and pushing every button that megumi had, and then putting on your usual innocent act when confronted by him.

megumi was at his limit. he had grown sick of your little games. you thought you were so funny, didn't you? you probably thought that capitalizing on his aversion towards you would make him crack, but this only fueled every negative feeling he had towards you. he was gonna find out every little thing that made you tick.

from that point on, megumi was silent around you, but he stared at you like a wolf ready to tear apart his prey. this was when he noticed things about you differently, the way your hair always looked perfect, like you had spent hours on it in the morning, the way your eyes looked in the afternoon sunlight, even the way your nosed scrunched up when you laughed.

but he had to focus on the task at hand, he had to get you to be the one to crumble, he had to see you defenseless and at his mercy. how he would do this, he didn't know.

it was a sunny afternoon, a cool breeze complimenting the sight of trees filled with orange and red leaves, and the smell of pumpkin spice flooding the classroom. you stayed inside while everyone else played in the leaves, doodling trees and different plants you saw from the open window by your seat at the front of the classroom. you didn't even notice megumi walk in with a slight devilish grin plastered on his face.

megumi had finally figured out how to push your buttons, he was gonna start by 'accidentally' spilling a hot latte over your sketchbook. (he couldn't think of any better ideas) you finally notice megumi walking towards you, a cup from the café across the street in his hand.

"is that for me?" you ask, taking out one airpod from your ear. "how sweet of you!" before he can even attempt to tilt the cup over your drawings, you take the cup out of his hands, and start to sip the coffee little by little. "so what did you come to talk to me about?" you ask, taking out your other airpod. "I-uh..huh?" megumi stammers, did he want to talk to you about something? if he did, he definitely forgot. "actually, I have something to say first." you say, turning your gaze to the black loafers you wear with your school uniform.

"I..I like you megumi. I have for a long time, and I know you have some like one sided beef with me, but I just want you to know that I don't feel negatively towards you at all.."

what. now this definitely wasn't what megumi was expecting at all. he stands there, in shock, unable to form sentences. "I- er- um.."

"oh my gosh, do I have to do everything?" suddenly, you take megumi's face and smash your lips onto his, spilling the latte all over the classroom floor. the taste of pumpkin spice and cinnamon still decorating your soft, plush lips.

just as megumi is about lift his hands up to your hair, you abrputly end the kiss. "I-I'm sorry" you say, picking up your books and bolting out of the classroom. megumi stands there, still frozen, attempting to process whatever the hell just happened.

just then a voice breaks the silence, "what..was that..?" it was yuji, nobara right next to him, both in almost as much shock as megumi.

"I...I don't know..."

.

.

.

a/n: HI GUYS! I'm fairly new to drabbles, so sorry if this is really long for a drabble (╥_╥)

yurikosinterlude ©️ 2024 ❁ pls don't plagiarize, copy, repost, or translate my works at all ❁ (or atleast without creds :3)

[ddandelionfluff]

moonlit recollections | viktor x reader

modern-ish? au; fluff; no relationship established; it's my first time posting pls forgive any mistakes; englishmajor!reader; inspired by Astrophil and Stella Sonnet 71

***

Who will in fairest book of nature know

You knock on his door at two in the morning, startling him out of the coffee-fueled haze he had been in for the past few days. Your voice carries through the thin door, asking if he was still awake. Joints creaking, Viktor pulls himself out of his desk, self-consciously smoothing out his too-wrinkled shirt and running his hands through his too-long hair as he opens the door, stopping quickly. The inside of his dorm is a mess, and if you saw it, you’d probably start trying to help him clean.  

He draws a breath as you look at him and laugh, the corners of your eyes crinkling as they trace his hair.

“You look rough.” An admonishment.

He shrugs.

“I have an exam tomorrow,” An apology.

“Which is why I’m here,” You say by way of explanation, which does not actually explain anything.

His brows furrow as he leans against the frame, taking some pressure off his leg. “I do not understand. We did not have a study session planned today.”

And even if you did, it wouldn’t have been at two in the morning.

You laugh again, a short, incredulous sound, and Viktor wishes he was funnier so he could be credited for it more often.

“No, genius, I’m here to get you to take a break. Also, you did miss our last session, so you owe me.”

How virtue may best lodged in beauty be

So here he was, following you through the dark university buildings as you, for the lack of a better word, broke into the arts lounge.

“It’s not breaking in if I’ve got the keys,” You justify, keys jingling in your hands. Viktor studies you as you fiddle with them, your face scrunched and tongue poking through your lips in concentration. You hadn’t taken off the lip oil you usually wore for moisture, and it glittered under the flashlight’s scrutiny.

“Hmm?” He says, realizing that you had said something, and that you were standing.

“Is the sleep deprivation getting to you, Viktor?” You tilt your head, eyes roving over his face, searching for the obvious signs of exhaustion painting his features. The purple under his eyes, drawing his face in even harsher lines, the line of tension between his brows. The way his features tended to draw into themselves like a plant unwatered. He watches you watch him, tracing your lips, touchless, trying to remember a word that wasn’t your name.

“I think it is,” He admits softly, afraid of letting you catch onto him.

You smile, hands finding the doorknob and twisting. You leaves the lights off, navigating through memory and the stray light of streetlamps streaming in. Viktor stumbles behind you, feeling his way through clumsily.

The doors to the balcony had been left open, a major oversight you grumble about as you slide them open. The air is chilly, making you shiver as it slithers past the warmth of your sweater. His sweater, Viktor notices. He had lent it to you a week ago, at your last session.

 Let him but learn of love to read in thee,

You had shown up to the library soaked through, the rain outside painting the world gray with its weeping. You tried to hide the shivering, but it was clear in the way you clenched your teeth, body drawn together with tension as you laughed off his concern.

“I don’t need my sweater, go change in the bathroom,” He had offered, both pitiful and exasperated at your lack of planning. With a sheepish smile, you had accepted the help, promising to return it as soon as possible.

Sunk into worn leather couches warmed by the nearby fireplace, you’d almost disappeared under the wool. As your hands danced across the page of the textbook in your lap, underlining and annotating the poem as you explained the basics of close-reading, Viktor couldn’t help but notice how you halted to push the sleeves up now and then as they got in the way.

It was supposed to be an easy class, but as of late, it had been taking up more time than his core courses. Not that Viktor could be bothered. You two had been in the library for hours now, on the couches near the fireplace—a frequent haunt. It was the best place to curl up with your anthologies in your laps, the lack of tables allowing  forcing Viktor to lean closer to see what you were pointing at, and—unbeknownst to him, for you to sit so your thigh would press up against his. Though he wasn’t aware of your design, he was plenty aware of the electricity firing up his nerves, even when the warmth of the fire threatened to drag him under.

He yawned, confused. Not only because he couldn’t make sense of your explanation or the sonnet itself, but also because he wasn’t used to the extreme bouts of fatigue that overtook him around you. It must be the literature, he had thought to himself, the words were literally putting him to sleep.

Stella, those fair lines which true goodness show.

“Tired?” You’d asked, sounding equally exhausted and perhaps a little hopeful. But Viktor had shaken his head—he’d needed to get through it that night, for the test was less than twenty-four hours away. The first one, his chance to set a standard for himself and to make an impression.

“Confused. I still do not understand what this last line adds to the poem. It is so…” Viktor had sighed, mouthing the line. “…random.”

“Well,” You’d started, tucking away a stray strand of hair. “If you look at the rest of the sonnet, Astrophil has been focusing on the virtuous parts of his love for Stella, basing it in admiration of her character and beauty from this very pure, respectful perspective. Almost like he was worshipping a deity rather than, I don’t know, loving a person. Keeping that in mind, what do you think the sudden interjection of desire might mean?”

Even half-asleep, you made the perfect teacher. Viktor wondered if he was making you question your decision to be an educator with his idiocy. Mulling over your words, he’d tried to formulate a response that would please you.

There shall he find all vices' overthrow,

That was the most difficult part of this subject—finding an appropriate answer. In his field, there was only ever one. But here? It felt like he was shooting in the dark, randomly putting together semblances of analysis in hopes of making the puzzle fit. It frustrated him.

“Hm,”—is what came out. Sighing, he’d tried again.

“Well, desire in this case would refer to a…carnal feeling, would it not?” The word was awkward against his tongue as he’d looked to you for approval, lighting up slightly when you nodded. Congratulations, you absolute genius, you remembered a basic definition, he thought sarcastically. It was a clear testament to his skills that even such a rudimentary recollection made you happy.

“Desire expresses, well, a desire for sustenance,” He’d continued. “So, it is being starved by the virtue of Astrophil’s love for Stella, then? Is that it?”

You smiled, teeth peeking out from behind your gloss-painted lips. “That is one interpretation, and a pretty good one at that.” Then, you’d paused, leaving Viktor confused again. A good interpretation did not mean the best one.

Not by rude force, but sweetest sovereignty

“Some might say that it’s a reminder that any true love can’t just be focused on virtue and purity, but also needs to encompass more carnal, ‘lowly’ aspects to be complete.” You explained, noticing his look. “But it really doesn’t matter what interpretation you argue for, as long as you have a strong argument.”

“But which is the better answer?” Viktor had asked incredulously, a hand threading through his hair.  

You laughed lightly. “There isn’t one, I suppose. Just whatever you can argue for.”

“That makes absolutely no sense.” He said with finality.

You shrugged as you scribbled down the analysis in his margins, leaning over so your hair was too close to Viktor’s face. He drew in a sharp breath, smelling the fresh scent of your shampoo.

“It’s just an exercise in close-reading, Viktor. The entire point is to discover the poem,”—you’d punctuated this statement with a flourish of your hand, rings glinting—"not to tie it up and beat it until it gives you the ‘right’ answer.”

Your voice had taken on that trademark gentleness, the tone it always took when you talked about anything you loved. Poetry, your favourite book, even a particularly good cup of coffee. It made Viktor’s chest ache, like it was pulling into itself, trying to shy away from you. He wondered if you could ever talk about him in that tone.

He’d been silent too long, eyes resting on your face absentmindedly. You laughed, snapping your fingers in front of him. He startled, sheepish. You’d been talking.

“Wanna call it a night?” You’d asked, shifting to face him properly, knees still tucked under your thighs.

Viktor had shaken his head. “No, I still do not feel entirely confident about this test,”

“Relax, Viktor, it’s only worth four points. Have fun with it,” You yawned, leaning your head against the couch, right beside his shoulder.

He’d mimicked you, leaning his head back to relieve the ache in his neck. “I would have thought that our semester-long acquaintance would have shown you how impossible that is.”

You had shrugged, blinking slowly. “Worth a try,”

Silence was a blanket over the two of you, your eyes shut lightly while Viktor tried to draw his away. He’d dreaded the end of this quiet, when you inevitably opened your eyes and sighed, a complaint about how you still had to go home and make dinner slipping from your lips. And Viktor had, once again, been too afraid to betray himself, to ask if you wanted to come over for dinner, to punctuate that question with the fact that his place was closer anyway. Instead, he’d stolen glances as you packed up, stopped you from returning his sweater, assuring you he’d just take it later.  

Of reason, from whose light those night-birds fly;

“Do you remember when we first met? You looked exactly like how you do right now,” On the balcony, you pull him out of his thoughts, leaning against the railing. He steps forward to join you, the cold metal a welcome shock compared to the nearly uncomfortable warmth your presence inspired in him.

“Are you trying to tell me I look horrible?” He replies flatly.

You shrug, smiling. “Maybe,”

He laughs, swallowing the faint bitter taste of self consciousness as he takes his place beside you.

That inward sun in thine eyes shineth so.

He’d been late on the first day, having to brace far too many stairs for his liking. The night before had been spent sleepless with pain in his leg, and the stairs that morning only made it worse. The only seat left was beside you, in the second row of all places. Cane thumping embarrassingly as the professor paused, Viktor had dropped beside you, trying his best not to disturb your arm as he settled in. The old hall, tucked away in the windowless basement of the Arts department, had creaky chairs and tiny pull-out desks, quite different from the state-of-the-art labs Viktor was used to. Despite his best efforts, his arm bumped against yours as he brought out his notebook.

You’d startled slightly, throwing him a small smile as he muttered a hasty apology. He began trying to decipher the page number by looking at your book, half-hidden by the arm you rested your head on. Unfortunately, you’d noticed that too. With another kind smile, you’d reached over and turned the book to the right page, pointing to the exact sonnet being discussed.

Though he thanked you, the lecture still flew over his head.

He could feel your eyes on him as you put your things away extra slowly, as if to match his pace in an attempt to not embarrass him further. If so, it didn’t work. He’d been painfully aware of the delay he was causing.

 “Are you in this faculty?” You’d asked as Viktor stood up. He was a deer caught in headlights as you swung your bag onto your shoulder.

“No, this class is, eh, a required option,” He’d said, feeling the paradox of the category.

“Really? The engineering students usually take the lower-level literature courses.”

“How do you know I’m in engineering?” Viktor had asked. Being easily discerned didn’t sound like a good thing.

You’d laughed. “Don’t worry, it’s only because I know most of the literature students, we’re a pretty small group.”

“Fair, but I could be in maths, or biology,” He’d titled his head. Around him, new students had started piling into the room. The two of you had been standing here for a while now.

“Well, you smell like motor oil and formaldehyde, so I think I got it half right.” You’d winked, stepping past him. You smelled like jasmine and books.  “I’ll see you around?”

And, not content to be perfection's heir,

And you had seen him around. The next lecture, you’d grabbed a seat closer to the entrance, saving the one beside you for him. He saw you as soon he entered, drawn to familiarity. Stopping just a step away, he noticed the bag, self-consciousness seeping in for a second as he wondered if he wasn’t as welcome as your last conversation had led him to believe. Perhaps that was just politeness, to help him save face? He had taken up a lot of your time.

Somewhere in the middle of his internal conflict, you had looked up from your book.

“Oh, hi, I saved you a seat!” You’d said cheerfully, a hint of tension in your smile. Later, you would tell him you were afraid to come off as too eager to be his friend. He found it unbelievable that someone could be embarrassed of wanting to be kind.

Viktor had never been so grateful for both his inability to decipher literature or his disability than the effect it had on his friendship with you. After the egregiously long reading list was distributed, you’d turned to him:

“I was thinking of going to get the books after class, do you want to come with? There’s quite a lot of them, so it would be easier for us to carry them together.”

Only when you were walking back to his dorm did he realize that in his eagerness to form an acquaintance, he had skipped over something quite obvious.

“You do not need help carrying these,” He said, slightly accusatory.  In one arm he carried a tower of half of the total required books, and, he realized again, only the thinnest ones.

 “Well, I didn’t want to come off as patronizing by asking you if you needed help,” You said, voice strained. From embarrassment or the effort, he could not tell. “Besides, my reasoning was so half-assed, I thought you saw through it.”

Viktor’s annoyance had only lasted a second before he noticed the breathlessness in your voice, no doubt from carrying almost double the weight you’d have to if you’d bought only your own books.

“Well then, I think I owe you for this,” He’d said, trying to keep his voice even. The truth was, even with you taking on so much of the burden, his arms and legs ached. There was no way he could’ve made it all the way back without your help. “Thank you.”

Now, you were definitely embarrassed. “You don’t have to thank me, any friend would do the same.”

Friend. He had other friends, but Viktor had still warmed at the fact that you’d decided his company was worth pursuing.

Thyself, dost strive all minds that way to move,

Now, here you were, a semester’s worth of study sessions and late-night talks later, still finding each other’s company worthy. Even as you stood silently, admiring the city’s skyline, basking in the presence of the other wordlessly.

“I must apologize,” Viktor begins suddenly. You shoot him a quizzical look but let him continue.

“For missing our last session,” He explains. Now your lips part, but Viktor continues. “No matter how busy I had been, I should’ve let you know I couldn’t make it. But I had just returned from an exam after two sleepless nights and fell asleep despite myself.”

You turn towards him, concern drawing your eyebrows together. “Viktor, why would you need to apologize for getting sleep? Speaking of which, why are you depriving yourself of rest?”

“I need to study, you know how it is,” He waves a dismissive hand, trying not to get anxious over the fact that he was currently wasting time.

“I must admit, I do not know how it is,” You reply. It was true, Viktor had noticed the delicate balance you struck in your own life, somehow always finding the time to socialize and keep yourself healthy without failing all your courses. Though you always said it was because your degree was easier, Viktor didn’t believe it.

“Unfortunately,” He sighs exaggeratedly, “we cannot all be gods of excellent time management.”

You laugh. “Not time management, just an easier program,”

Viktor shakes his head. “After taking just one of the courses that make up your schedule, I must disagree. I would have failed without you.”

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, sure, Vik.”

The nickname makes his heart stutter, even though you’d used it a thousand times. The lack of sleep truly was getting to him. In the silence that followed (because he couldn’t think of how to continue), you sigh.

“What’s the end for you, Vik?” You ask, looking at him sideways. “What’s the point of all this—the sleepless nights, the skipped meals, the self abandonment?”

The question was uncharacteristically heavy, and he wonders for a moment if he should inquire after you. But then again, it was half-past two and you were here, with him, instead of getting the minimum eight hours of rest you subscribed to, so perhaps that was a non-question.

Instead, he ponders the question you’d asked, mulling the words over in his mouth before speaking. He hadn’t really vocalized it before. “Well, I want to help people, I suppose. Help them and be remembered for it.”

You hum in understanding, expecting him to continue. And he does.

“I suppose I’ve felt…invisible. For most of my life, that is. Most people were embarrassed of looking at me, and the universe itself seemed to be telling me that I didn’t matter. So I made myself matter. Became the smartest in the room, the most accomplished, excelling intellectually so that no one had a chance to notice anything else.”

“Did it work?” You ask, barely above a whisper.

“I…do not know,” He admits, laughing slightly. “The recognition, the awards, the opportunities—they help, but the attention only lasts a few minutes, and it’s always…incomplete.”

“How so?”

He hesitates slightly, scared of the words about to leave him. “People don’t see all of you, I suppose. Just your mind, and your work. They still shy away from all the parts of you that don’t fit in,” He motions towards the cane still clutched in his hand, and the leg that now ached tenfold.

You hum in understanding, your eyes now finding his. “Like people only value you for what you can do, rather than who you are.”

“Exactly.” For a moment, Viktor is in awe of your ability to understand people, before he notices the tension in your shoulders and the tight way you’d said those words.

“What about you?” He asks. “What do you hope to achieve from all this?” 

Who mark in thee what is in thee most fair.

You take a breath, exhaling deeply as you look around. “Same as you, I suppose.”

“I was referring specifically to all this,” He waves a hand, gesticulating to your surroundings. “Taking care of so many people, in so many small ways. It must add up. It must take time away from studying, from actually working towards your goals.”

You laugh, but it’s more of a formality than genuine mirth. “I don’t really have big goals like you, a need to be remembered in history for doing something great. I don’t care about a classroom of kids studying history decades in the future, I care about my siblings remembering me the moment they’re, I don’t know, illegally drunk and have no ride. I want to love and be loved now, in the immediate. Screw legacy, or whatever,”

 Somewhere during your brief monologue, the fire behind your eyes had started blazing again. The traitorous ally that was the air in his lungs betrays him, as it usually does around you, but Viktor wouldn’t be surprised if he could just survive on the sight of you alone. Your shoulders tense, face taught, defenses raised, a vestige of having to defend your choices and your life from those who could never truly understand you. As much as he wished to reach out, ease the tension holding you tight, it was exhilarating to witness—the ferocity that inspired your love.

“What?” Your eyes meet his, finally, after roving everywhere else for the past few minutes. He realizes he’s been staring too long, too quietly. Licking his lips, coming up empty for words. Woops.

“Is there something on my face?”

A shake of the head. “No, no. You’re fine,”

“Alright,” You say, suspicious. “You don’t think I’m stupid, do you?”

“Of course not!” Viktor scrambles to correct you. “I was just…at a loss for words.”

“Whatever you say, Vikkie-boy,” You sigh, faking exasperation.

Viktor cringes at the nickname, which was novel.  “Please never use that term again.”

You pout, a teasing glint in your eye as you lean towards him. “Aw, you don’t like my new pet name?”

“Yes,” Viktor replies, deadpan. Partially because he cannot, with any self-respect, entertain such a monstrous butchering of his name, and because you were entirely too close to him. Close enough that he can see the pores in your skin and the pupils of your eyes, and the glittering liquid in your waterline.

So while thy beauty draws thy heart to love,

He catches the exact moment you notice it too, the proximity. Your gaze flits somewhere lower, and though he would like to flatter himself, Viktor resists the thought that comes. He hears your breath falter, tripping before correcting itself, your lips parted slightly.

Another thought, loud and overwhelming. Much harder to resist. Much harder to think past. So he doesn’t—think, that is. Doesn’t speak. Lets the silence and your confusion stretch on for a few more moments as he takes you in.

“You’re acting a bit strange,” You say, voice and eyes low. It sounds divine.  He could listen to it all night. “You wanna go to bed?”  

As fast thy virtue bends that love to good:

Viktor shakes his head. There’s never been anything he was surer of. Perhaps he should feel a bit guilty that through your profession of your morals, your defense of your values, he could only think of stepping closer to you. Of taking your breath away. Of, perhaps, taking care of you, for once. Repay you for all your favours. Perhaps he should feel guilty that instead of engaging with you intellectually, he could only think of softness, in your hair, your lips, your skin. But then again—

He recalls dimly the poem that started this all, its lines blurring past him to the beat of his own heart.

But "Ah," Desire still cries, "Give me some food!"

He could do it. Step closer, quiet the tidal waves in his mind that left him so mute. There was a ninety-five percent chance you wouldn’t mind, a similar chance you would enjoy it.

It wouldn’t feel like a forest fire, he could imagine that much. A hearth, perhaps. Steady and warm and comforting, the warm space between your lips where your breath mingles with his—peppermint and coffee, the taste of the chocolate you’d been nibbling before a palimpsest he could trace with his tongue.

He could do it.

Could he?

[ikykwklk-ash]

"Like a K-Drama"

Pairing: Lee Felix x fem!reader

W/c: 3150

Synopsis: as you leave the library you bump into a guy who helps you up and buys you a coffee to apologize. maybe you're in love? or maybe you're just friends?

thanks @thomlugaro26 for reading the 300 betas

You are in the library, and you are taking notes on what you are studying in the notebook next to the book. In your headphones you are listening to quiet music, like Wave To Earth, Bibi and Suggi, you are not aware of people entering and leaving the place. You are in your own world. Lost in studying and relaxing. You discovered this library a few weeks ago, it is somewhat hidden among the big buildings of the city. The first time you saw it you didn't even think it was a library, it seemed to be more like a bookshop, so you went in thinking of buying some new book, but as soon as you were inside you were enveloped in a warm silence. An old woman at the counter smiles at you and whispers a lively good morning. You have simply decided to browse the shelves a bit, look at what books are there and whether it is a possible place for a future. So, this routine started. You go to university, attend your lectures, come home, eat and then go to this library hidden from the world and stay there until it closes. You usually take a break in the middle of the day to stretch your bones and have a cold American in the bar next to the building, then return to study.

And indeed, you have just got up to go for your usual walk, you are walking towards the exit with your headphones on connected and 'Underwater' by Elephant Gym playing in your ears, only something is wrong as planned and if one moment you were walking, the next you find yourself sitting on the floor without know how this could have happened.

You look up, blink slightly to focus your vision: in front of you there is a boy with the long blond hair, freckles scattered all over the face seem to glow under the sun's rays that through the large window of the building, he too fell to the ground from the heavy impact; he has glasses hanging slightly from the nose and with a quick movement pulls them up and simultaneously settles a few strands of hair that had slipped from his half-tail.

“Oh God I'm so sorry...” you open your eyes wide, amazed, at the deep tone of your voice, not expecting such a low tone from such a sweet face.

"D-don't worry! Are you OK? You've fallen too"

The blond smiles warmly and nods “Don't worry, I'm not hurt, I'm Felix anyway”.

"O-oh, it's Y/N, I really hope you're not hurt."

"Y/N don't worry, I'm not hurt! In fact, as an apology can I buy you a coffee at the café nearby?"

You think about it for a moment and then nod, pick up your things that were still on the floor and slip them into your canvas bag. You start walking towards the library exit as Felix smiles at you and then looks at the drawing on your bag: an open blue videotape on the left and three rectangles on the right, "Do you listen to Wave To Earth?" you ask with eyes wide open.

"Um... yes, do you know them?" you ask surprised.

"Of course! I just finished listening to the new album, they're great!"

Your smile widens even more as you nod "It's true, I don't know how to explain what I feel every time that I listen to them, by the way listening to their music helps me concentrate better and the new album is something of mysticism!"

"Oh my God, I absolutely agree. Besides, with the new album they really outdid themselves, I don't know how to explain to people how I feel every time I hear 'are you bored?' or even 'slow diva'. I love them."

While talking about the new album and which song you like best, you arrive at the bar and Felix holds the door open for your glass, you thank him with a nod of the head as you finish telling how you started listening to the Wave to Earth and sit down at a table.

"Um, so what are you having?" asks Felix as he looks at the menu.

"I think I'll have the iced American and um... a chocolate muffin, you?" you say after giving a quick read through the menu, even though by now you knew it by heart after all the times you had entered that pretty little café in pastel green and pink.

“I think I'll have a milkshake and a pistachio croissant”, he says, smiling sweetly. After a few minutes, the waiter arrives to ask for orders: "Hi guys, what can I get you?"

"Hi Jack, for me the usual and for Felix a milkshake and a pistachio cornetto. Are you in the room today?" he asks, smiling at the boy standing next to your table. He snorts in amusement and answers you affirmatively, then turns around and goes to deliver orders to the counter.

"Do you come here often?" asks Felix.

“Um yes, since I discovered the library, the café has become my second favourite place. I have started coming here so many times that at one point I made friends with everyone, even the owners”, you laugh as you look around, scanning every corner of the room.

While waiting for your orders, you start talking about more and less, beginning to discover little things about each other.

"FELIIIIIIIX" shouts, at one point, a voice from the other end of the room; the boy turns around and sees himself coming a colourful blur at full speed, jumping on his legs to embrace him.

"Jisungie!" Felix mirrors the newly arrived boy's happiness, while you smile slightly at that scene, then comes the realisation and you look at Felix with mild shock.

"Hello Lixie, hello Y/N-ie," said a calmer voice behind you, you turn around and see Minho looking at you with a slight smile and a beige apron with cats drawn on it.

"Oh? Do you know each other?" you ask Felix.

He nods and explains that Jisung is his roommate and best friend and together they are the ‘Sunshine Twins', and consequently knows Minho because he is Jisung's boyfriend and is now in their flat 24 hours a day, seven days a week.

You laugh at the situation you found yourself in, while Jisung and Minho take two chairs from the table next to each other and bring them closer to you by sitting down.

All four of you start chatting together while you and Felix sip the drinks you have ordered. You talk about more and less; you get to know Felix more and he begins to get to know you. It is a game of glances, of new words, of small gestures that make you think 'oh wow'. Minho and Jisung tell funny anecdotes about the blondie, and you laugh out loud. You begin to appreciate the company of the boy, observe how the rays of light shine on his face, how his freckles become light up every time one of those golden rays falls, gently, on them. Notice the lightness of his touch in everything he does, how he arranges unruly strands of hair behind his ears. How he listens carefully to what Jisung has to say, how he responds to Minho's stories...

The hours pass in that small pastel-coloured bar, they pass so quickly that you do not realise that it is now closing time, until Minho gets up and says: “I must close the bar now, I'm sorry. Felix can accompany you to your home, it's too late for you to go out alone Y/N”.

And you gladly accept Minho's proposal, because Felix smiles at you and makes you feel safe. You step outside the bar, breathing in the summer air of early September, the blond boy accompanies you through the narrow streets of the city until you get to your flat. Before leaving, however, Felix asks you for the phone number and you smile and give it to him. Then you say goodbye with a promise to see each other again one of these days.

You enter the house, your face aches from how much you are smiling, the mirror in the hallway reveals your red cheeks, maybe that's why you feel so hot.

Days pass, you and Felix start going out more often, your phone starts to have more notifications to read: your chat is full of messages, memes, tiktok links, funny tweets, instagram posts and sometimes even tumblr. You come to realise that l, indeed, feel strong feelings for the blond boy. Every time a message from him arrives, you find yourself smiling, blushing and giggling like a young girl struggling with her first love. You are always faced with the lost library, enter together after a brief greeting and look for the most hidden place inside, then sit down and start studying or reading new books. Take a break when one of you can no longer sit, get up and go to Minho and Jisung's bar, take your usual order and you chat amongst yourselves, sometimes the two owners of the bar join in your conversations. Then you return to the library to continue studying.

Today is no different, you have just come out of the library at the end of the day and Felix asks if he can accompany you to your home, you nod in affirmation and as you speak your shoulders begin to touch each other, hands brushing. Oh, you are so hopelessly in love with this blond boy that you have met by chance. By now you spend your days thinking about him, writing to him, drawing little hearts on papers scattered, on desks, wherever a pencil or pen might leave trails of graphite or ink.

Arriving at the door of your flat, Felix smiles at you with that smile made of sunshine, which makes one feel at home, protected. "He is beautiful," you think.

"T-thank you, you look beautiful too," says the blond, his cheeks dusted with a light red. You fucking said out loud. Then, slowly, you realise the compliment and blush. You lower your gaze in embarrassment while giving a shy smile.

Felix chuckles and comes closer, slowly wrapping you in an embrace, almost asking permission to touch you.

Stand there shifting your weight from one foot to the other, holding each other close. Enjoying the warmth that a hug can give. No matter what is going on around you, the important thing is that you are with him, that you are together. Him and his blond hair. Him and his freckles are made of starlight. Him and his smile warmth that makes you melt every time you see him. Him and his heat. Feel your legs of jelly when you are away from each other. You don't know if you can still stand, you feel you could fall at any moment to the other by how much your legs tremble with the love and affection you feel for him.

Eventually, you say goodbye, deciding to see each other again the next day, and when you see him coming down the stairs you lean against the wall with a sigh. A sigh and a smile on his face, his cheeks warm, his eyes shining for love.

You enter your flat, hang up your jacket and take off your shoes, throwing them randomly into the shoe rack. You sit down on the sofa of your small three-room apartment and look outside, enjoying the last lights of the day filtering through the window and thinking back to Felix and his arms around your body. You don't want to forget the feeling of light touch on your hips, you don't want to forget the warm breath tickling your neck, you don't want to forget the gentle rocking on your feet as you enjoy each other's presence. Hold those feelings for as long as possible, while you prepare your dinner, while you put on your pajamas and while you go to bed, write him a goodnight message and make sure he gets home safely, as you fall asleep.

The next day you wake up, think back to the hug and smile like you never did before. 'Fuck Y/N, it's just a hug, pull yourself together for God's sake' you think after a first moment. You sigh and get out of bed. You look at the alarm clock that says 7 a.m., get ready for university, have breakfast and then leave the house. Your phone vibrates for a notification

"Good morning Y/N ( ^_^ / ) "

"Good morning Lix ( ^ 3 ^ )"

You smile, you smile so much that an old woman looks at you strangely, but you don't care because She was probably the same when she received a letter from the person she was in love with.

You exchange messages until you enter the classroom, and the teacher starts the lesson. For all lessons all you do is think about the fact that you will see Felix again today, you are so distracted that you don't even realise that classes are over until one of your classmates asks you if you are okay. You smile and nod at him as you get up and run outside.

You meet at the entrance to the library, she smiles at you and the sun shines on her face and her blond hair, you meet and hold you in an embrace. After detaching yourself, you enter the library and sit down at your usual hidden place. You spend a couple of hours studying in that library, cast glances at each other and smile fleetingly in the silent space of books. When you decide to take a break, you get up and head for the bars of Minho and Jisung. As you walk Felix takes your hand and intertwines it with his, his palm is warm, it is comfortable. You arrive at the bar and go in, sit down and order the usual things.

The day progresses, you laugh together with the two bar owners, return to the library and study. When you see that it is starting to get dark outside, you get up and put your things away. Leaving the library Felix asks if he can drive you home and you gladly accept, walking in silence for most of time, occasionally chatting and smiling at each other.

"Y/N..."

"Yes?"

"Can I talk to you?"

You stop near a park and look at him, hesitantly nodding and smiling to go forward, Felix looks at you, takes a deep breath and mutters, blinks a couple of times.

"I did not understand"

Felix's cheeks dusted with red under the dim light of the streetlamps, he lowered his gaze shyly and whispered "I've liked you ever since we bumped into each other in the library..."

Your face starts to warm up and you look at Felix with your lips slightly open, your smile widens like this so much so that your face muscles ache, you approach the boy in front of you and slowly take his hand, he looks up at you and you whisper, “I like you too, ever since we started talking”. You stop for a moment and wait for the guy to realise your words, and when his eyes open wide, you continue "There was a precise moment when I realised I liked you. You were talking to Jisung, I don't know what about, and a ray came through the bar window and hit your perfect freckles, and your face lit up so much... for a moment I thought the Sun had come straight into the bar. The only thing I was thinking while you were talking to Jisung is that you were beautiful and that your freckles remind me of the constellations," you whisper softly, as if it were a secret that only the two of you could know. You whisper softly because, if you could, you would shout it to the whole world, you would shout how the boy's freckles are so beautiful, how much you love to see her warm smile and how her hugs make you feel good.

Felix looks at you with wide eyes and smiles at you so much that you are afraid he will get facial paralysis, you he comes even closer and with a delicate touch, as if he were holding a glass vase subtle, he takes your face, his gaze travelling from your eyes to your lips

"Can I kiss you?"

"Yes"

The boy comes even closer to you and tilts his head slightly, his lips brush against yours, your noses touching each other lightly. Your eyes close when he kisses you. It is such a gentle kiss; it makes you feel loved and protected. His lips are warm against yours; they taste like strawberries thanks to the lip balm that Felix spreads every so often. His hands fall on your hips, and you encircle his neck with your arms, drawing him closer. When you pull away to catch your breath, Felix smiles and takes you by the hand, his eyes meet yours and his cheeks turn red, highlighting her freckles.

"Would you like to be my girlfriend?"

"Yes"

He kisses you again and again, then takes you by the hand and you walk towards Jisung and Minho's bar.

When you enter, Minho is at the counter preparing a customer's order, while Jisung is serving at a table. Minho briefly looks up when he hears the bell ring, his eyes are pointed at your hands entwined together and a smile breaks out on his face. He makes a movement with his head to a vacant table a little apart from the others. You sit and wait for your usual orders to arrive.

Don't wait long really, Jisung arrived with the smoothie for Felix and your coffee, placed them on the table and sat in the chair opposite yours, Minho arrived shortly afterwards and continued to observe. Jisung took a deep breath and smiled at you. He did not ask any questions, just looked at you and waited. Felix laughed slightly and began to recount everything that had happened in the park, you smiled and nodded, occasionally adding some details. The day ends like this, Felix accompanies you to your flat, you say goodbye, you kiss, and you decide to go out the next day as a date. When you go in you take off your shoes and put them in the usual place, you smile all the time as you get ready for bed, memories hovering before your eyes, the taste of his lips that you can still taste on yours, the warmth of his hands on your hips that still hovers around you. Smile even when you lie in bed and close your eyes.

[kazucee]

! WITH GENTLE HANDS TO HOLD.

(the gentle scholar who's completely smitten for you: soft/fluffy Veritas Ratio relationship HCs)

AN: the brainrot is hard with this one boys. Think of this as a pre-hc post before I post the Reca fic that I have yet to write the ending for. Also possibly ooc TT? IDC JUST GIVE ME SOFT DOWN BAD MEN.

The gentle scholar to your dismay has always been an early riser. Making it a habit to wake up before you and running through his morning routine like clockwork. You're not even surprised when you awake to the other side of the bed completely empty but the aroma of the breakfast he makes for you instantly draws your attention away from the lack of body heat (or lack of a body in general). Despite you constantly waking up cold you're always greeted by a warm delicious breakfast, a cup of coffee brewed just the way you like it, and him freshly showered and smelling of cedarwood and mint. He always makes it a point to eat breakfast with you (if he's not busy that is). Occasionally you'd try to wake up early with him, setting an alarm beforehand with the most obnoxious sounds to get you to wake up. Usually it doesn't work, waking up almost everyone in the entire galaxy except you. Unless you requested for him to specifically wake you up at this time, he'll always let you sleep in and let you wake up on your own accord. He finds your resting state oddly endearing and would often spend the first five minutes of his morning routine just admiring you.

He has found out that the most effective way to wake you up is through the simple act of kissing your forehead, something he does everyday without fail. It doesn't matter if you're sick or mad at him, he'll still do it. It starts with a small peck, then a press of his own forehead against your own, then a small murmur of ‘good morning’ before one last chaste kiss to the skin between your eyes.

Coffee in the morning was a sacred time for you both. He has your preferences mastered and takes his time to make it according to your taste. He brews the coffee first before going to wake you up so that they'd have time to cool down and so that you'd wake up to the scent of freshly grounded coffee beans (which he knows you love)

He ironically likes matcha (though he still prefers coffee more) and gets offended whenever you label it as 'sweet grass water', that leads to you both getting into a 20 minute debate over whether or not it is worth the hype. He's dead serious. So are you.

He will never leave the apartment without saying goodbye to you. It's either verbally or through the form of a sticky note saying 'see you tonight my love'.

He is genuinely interested and often invested in your interests. Being with a man who values knowledge has its ups, whenever you find a new thing to obsess about you immediately have a person by your corner who's willing to listen to all your rambles. He'd definitely educate himself on the matter as well and help you do deep dives and research about it (it's both of your past times). He likes it because it makes you happy and because it's technically something new to learn about. He loves finding new topics to talk to you about and he always wants to make sure he's intellectual enough to actively engage in a proper conversation with you.

PLANS. OUT. YOUR. DATES. (IDC WHAT Y'ALL SAY) he will be the type to have memorized all your favorite places, where to take you when you're craving something savory, where to take you when you're feeling depressed. He does the work and probably has a physical copy of all the fun places he could take you on depending on your mood. Now he can easily figure out what places you'd want to try out and which ones to actively avoid.

He is the epitome of self-care (BRO HAS A LITERAL LIGHTCONE WHERE HES IN A BUBBLE BATH) you both have days where you just soak in a bubble bath with him reading a book and you relaxing against him, occasionally he'd read to you. Face masks? Yes. Nail care? Sure why not? He loves doing self care things with you (or just spending time with you in general, the soft skin is a bonus)

Would often gift you novels or books that he knows you'll enjoy. You'll be pleasantly surprised to see his handwriting on the margin because he had annotated it beforehand, and to your dismay he will quiz for fun on the book from time to time to test if you actually read it (you always do.)

He's not big on matching clothing but would get matching jewelery, he doesn't wanna hide that he's obsessed with you but he doesn't want to flex or show you off like you are some kind of object. He would get you both matching rings, matching bracelets, matching necklaces, and will always wear them without fail. He's usually subtle about it but whenever anyone asks him about them he'd answer you.

He ironically likes calling you pet names darling, love, idiot (endearingly), but he loves your name, he's probably the type to know the meaning behind your name as well.

Dating him is not spoiler free unfortunately, he will accidentally spoil the end of a movie or book because he's already read the reviews of it online, and has watched the analysis of it before watching it with you.

Also will commentate on the movie: "that's dumb why didn't she just-"

LOVES TO ARGUE WITH YOU, he doesn't care if you're degrading him in the most foul way. He will relish you getting angry and starting fights.

HE WILL. NEVER. RAISE HIS VOICE AT YOU. it'll always be that stupidly calm yet smug one, he is a firm believer in the 'loudest voice doesn't mean you win the argument' idea and he goes by that a lot. He can be condescending however, the type that makes you want to punch his stupid face.

"such unfortunate language. only those who cannot express themselves intelligently would resort to such crude substitutions in vocabulary" — Ratio at some point (he was losing the argument)

Begrudgingly allowed you to paint on his white alabaster sculpture that he sometimes wears, there's a trace of you everywhere on him, the design changes from time to time. He probably made you one as well.

He keeps all the gifts and letters you give him in a special box and has a picture of you on his person every time.

He probably has tabs on everything, the date of your first kiss, the date of your first date, your favorite color. It's all inside a little notebook.

Doesn't even need to say I love you because his eyes say it all, he looks at you as if you had placed all the stars in the sky. it's a subtle look but over the time you were able to identify it.

[cherrysurf]

Tall blonde and evil! | Katsuki Bakugo x f!reader

chapter 8; stupid event ★

Today was the 2024 hottest man award event, the media was buzzing to get everyone with final votes, celebrities have been rushing to get ready and have been talking about said event. You’ve been trying not to pull your hair out from the nerves all morning as for bakugou he’s been sleeping since he decided to wake up at 5am to head to the gym, get a haircut, get a facial, and then a massage got home at 7am left you a message and proceeded to fall asleep so he didn’t have eye bags for the event—

the text made you sigh “typical bakugou” you decided to hop in the shower for a much needed everything shower, as you stand there scrubbing your hair with shampoo you can’t help but think of how different yours and bakugous relationship as grown over the past few months—

sure you bickered and fought especially in the beginning where he almost fired you, but as of late he’s been really nice or as nice as he can be which in some sick sinister way made your stomach feel weird almost in a loving nervous way but why? and as much as you try to figure out some weird odd conclusion or reasoning there seems to be none all you can do is stay professional because at the end of the day makes it’s just nerves from all this build up towards the event that was making you feel this way after all maybe you didn’t really know bakugou as you thought you did. Especially after the interview where he said that one line maybe there's a side to him that you have yet to discover, you roll your eyes at the fact that there is more to this man than just the surface and wait he portrays “ugh i hate when he’s right” you say out loud as you continue to shave your legs—

soon after you step out the shower staring at tonight’s outfit that was hung up on your doorframe rolling your eyes “yayyy” you say sarcastically. Now it was time for your skincare routine because from bakugous words “he wanted the best of the best” whatever the fuck that meant. It was now about 12 in the afternoon when you decided to send Bakugou his lunch and coffee because you knew he was going to wake up soon— then you got a phone call from him not too long after.

“Did you eat?” he said over the phone in a groggy tone.

“no i'm in the middle of my skincare” you responded as you had him speaker while applying an eye mask for the eye bags you’ve been wearing since college.

“why didn’t you buy yourself lunch when you got me some? Are you really that dumb?” he said in more of a mean tone.

“I wasn’t aware I could do that you know?” you say rolling your eyes.

“i can hear your stupid fuck ass eye roll from over the phone ya know…you stress me out so bad i’m gonna grow a grey hair before this event.” he said with annoyance.

“Really i could’ve sworn i saw one coming in already during the interview a couple days ago” you say laughing

“You know i would’ve believed you but i got my haircut today and they checked for me” he said.

“i didn’t know you cared so much about your appearance” you said actually worried if he was insecure

“It's my job to worry about my appearance, gosh anyways i have to go get food i’ll pick you up later goodbye.” he said annoyed hanging up the phone

“bye.” you say even after he hung up the call feeling like you said something wrong? but we’re sure what…

After that embarrassing conversation you throw your phone on the bed and start doing your makeup the goal was to make sure it matched with the dress, so you kept it classy with a nice smooth base and a simple eye look with a bold red lip, you did your hair in old hollywood curls that were very bouncy and sleek “i swear if this isn’t up to bakugou's “standard” im shoving my heel up his ass” you say rolling your eyes as you put on your dress it was almost time for him to pick you up for the event— you put on your heels applied perfume your signature scent of vanilla and cherry, and got your purse and made sure you had stuff to touch up your makeup during the event. You stand in your living room looking at yourself in the mirror nervously and now pacing around your living room until you feel your phone buzzing—

“hey i’m 5 minutes away are you ready?” you hear him say.

“yeah i’m ready” you respond yet your stomach starts to feel like your about to throw up this afternoon's lunch

“Why does your voice shaking?” he asked

“Nervous i guess i mean i am the one who’s gonna be doing most of the talking as you said.” you say rolling your eyes

“You shouldn’t be. Just see them as your co-workers” he responded calmly

“Hopefully that works.” you say taking a deep breath out to ground yourself

“It will. anyways i’m here come outside” he mentions

“k.” you say hanging up the phone

As you walk out your house you find him there waiting for you by the passenger side with the door open “what a gentleman” you say in your head amused and impressed by his whole demeanor that makes you wonder how the night will play out.

a/n- FAT JUICY CLIFFHANGER anyways the gala/event is gonna take place on new years bc i said so, and it makes sense but i hope you enjoy this chapter and are excited for the next chapter aka the new years special

big shoutout to shari for being my motivation on getting this done and helping me!

taglist; @kalulakunundrum @sweetadonisbutbetter @rednicotine @ikissfade @bakugouswh0r3 @allurearia @themultifandomgirl @junehasnotbeenfound @darhinadadragon @kodzubaby @harryzcherry @sahrii @kholethecutie @s4ikooo1 @babylambdietcoke @lover-no-lover61 @sikuthealien @homeless-clown @bookaholicfangirl4life @idexmids

[honeypiehotchner]

The Gambit (Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- part four

(Yes I'm posting another one don't look at me) Happy New Year's Eve everyone! Another treat for the holidays from me as I keep writing at the speed of light xxx

Warnings: angst angst angst!

When you get downstairs to the hotel lobby in the morning, Hotch thinks it’s time to play twenty-fucking-questions.

“Did you sleep?”

You give him a weird look. This is question number seven. “I took a nap. I’m fine.” Never mind the fact that Hotch doesn’t look like he slept a wink. He probably stayed awake, mulling over files all night.

“How much did you smoke?” he asks. Number eight.

Behind you, Derek joins in as he walks up with coffee. “You bought cigarettes? We talked about this.”

“Can both of you get off my dick?” you laugh, trying to hide how annoyed and uncomfortable this is making you. “We have a missing girl. Shouldn’t we focus on that? Can we go?”

“Does everyone have what they need?” Hotch asks, though he’s already moving toward the door. His phone lights up in his hand and he takes it, muttering, “This is Agent Hotchner.”

You all wait anxiously for Hotch to finish the call, but continue walking toward the parking lot. It’s not until you’re nearly at the cars that the call ends, and Hotch begins speed walking.

“That was the sheriff,” he says, opening the driver’s side door. “Richard Monroe turned himself in five minutes ago.”

“What?” you blurt, hopping in the passenger seat of Hotch’s car without thinking. You see Derek get in the backseat and think thank god someone else got in. “Does he have Lila?” As much as you hate Hotch’s view of this case, you still feel the need to ask.

“No,” Hotch says, and you feel a spark of pride in yourself. “He claims to not know where she is.”

You groan, but it’s cut off by a surprised yelp as Hotch speeds onto the main road, putting the lights on, and squealing the tires. You reach up for the safety bar, holding on for dear life as Hotch races to the precinct.

+++

Richard Monroe looks like a ghost.

He spends the first few minutes of the interrogation asking Morgan where Lila is. And when Morgan finally says “we don’t know,” Richard starts to cry.

“Hotch…” you shake your head, looking away. “He’s telling the truth. He doesn’t have her.”

Hotch stays silent, arms crossed over his chest as he watches Richard and Morgan. “Or he’s playing a game.”

“Can you be serious for one second?” 

Hotch doesn’t even turn his head to look at you. Instead, you get a glare from the corner of his eye. “I am being serious.”

“We need to ask him if he knows anyone that might pose as him,” you press. 

Hotch ignores you.

Morgan stands and leaves the interrogation room, coming out to stand next to you and Hotch. “He’s distraught, man.”

“Because he doesn’t have her,” you insist. “Let me talk to him.”

“No,” Hotch says.

“You didn’t even think about it.”

“Because I don’t need to,” Hotch replies, still cold. “You don’t have clearance.”

“Clearance?”

“Hotch, what does that even mean?” Morgan butts in, surprising you. “It can’t hurt, man. I think he needs someone in there that’s not me or you. He’s just going to get angry if you walk in there.”

“Exactly,” you nod in agreement. “He needs to feel in control again. So let me.”

Hotch takes a moment to at least think about it, and then he says, “Go.”

“Is that a yes?”

“Go before I change my mind.”

You smile. “Is there a box of tissues around?”

+++

You set the box of tissues in front of Richard Monroe, also giving him a cup of water. He keeps his head down, his fingers clenched together.

“Here,” you barely whisper. “I’m really sorry about my colleague. He can get a little…aggressive.”

Richard says nothing, but he does nod.

“I’m Agent L/N,” you begin. “I’m new. I just felt so bad for you, I had to come say something.” You pause, taking the seat across from him. “I’m really sorry about your daughter. We’re doing everything we can to find her. I know you had nothing to do with this.”

“I really didn’t,” he says. The words are as quiet as they are pitiful. “I wouldn’t. Not her.”

“I know,” you nod. You need to ask your next question. You just hope it won’t set him off again. “Do you know anyone who would?” 

He shakes his head, but doesn’t seem angry or upset. “No one knows about her. And if they do, they know not to fucking touch her.”

That sounds about right. “I understand,” you nod. “Is there anyone who would,” you pause and chuckle, playing up the dumb newbie act, “have ‘beef’ with you, so to speak? About anything?”

He looks up then, and grins. It makes your stomach turn. “They don’t live long enough.”

You lean into your startled reaction. You can see he’s opening up more and more with how vulnerable you let yourself seem. 

He grabs the cup of water and downs it in one go. “How new are you?”

“It’s my first day,” you reply sheepishly, making yourself smaller and smaller. “I’m not supposed to be in here, but I just felt so bad.”

“You’re a sweet girl,” Richard says, still with the same smile that makes you uneasy. It takes too long for you to realize that it’s the same crazed look your dad used to have. “What’s a sweet girl like you doing working for the FBI?”

“What’s someone like you doing turning yourself in to the FBI?” you counter. “I’ve heard about you, y’know.”

Richard leans back in his seat. “Yeah? What have you heard?”

“That you’ve gotten away with it all thus far,” you shrug. “Been completely off the FBI’s radar. So why’d you jump back on it now?”

He narrows his eyes at you. “How new did you say you were?”

You ignore him. He’s halfway onto you now anyway. “Surely it’s not just because your daughter has gone missing. You couldn’t possibly love her that m—”

He slams his hands on the table hard, and you almost jump, but you don’t move an inch. He stares at you, that same wild look you’ve seen before.

“You don’t scare me,” you say. “What’s the real reason you’re here?”

His left eye twitches. “Why do you look familiar?”

Your blood runs cold but you don’t show it. “Why are you avoiding my question?” You cross your arms over your chest. “I know you don’t give a shit about your ex-wife either, Richard, so what is it?”

“You think we’re all the same, don’t you?” he taunts. “That just because we do what we do means we can’t feel love.”

I know you can’t, you think. “Do you love your daughter?”

“Yes,” he answers instantly. Zero doubt. “And despite what my ex-wife tells you, I love her too. I just want to keep them safe.”

“Safe from what?”

“People like me,” he replies. “Who do you think?”

You stay silent for a moment. He’s studying your face in a way you don’t like. That’s your cue to leave.

You nod like you’ve figured him out and stand up, pushing your chair in. “Do you want more water?”

“No.”

“Suit yourself,” you shrug, turning for the door.

“What’d you say your name was?”

You repeat it, knowing it will tell him nothing. There’s a reason you changed it. He seems dissatisfied as you expected because if your hunch is right about his, it wasn’t the surname he expected you to have.

He shouldn’t have expected you to keep the name. Lila probably won’t keep hers.

You return to the other room where Hotch is waiting and watching. His eyes follow you as you step inside, looking through the window at Richard.

“I’m not sure if any of that was remotely useful,” you admit. “But maybe he’ll be more amenable now. I seem to have caught him off guard.”

Hotch says nothing. And he won’t stop looking at you.

You sigh, turning to meet his eyes with a tired stare. You raise your eyebrows. “What? Do I have something on my face?”

“Why did he recognize you?”

You keep your expression neutral. “I don’t know, Hotch. Ask him. He’s the one in handcuffs.”

Hotch seems to accept your answer — or if he doesn’t, he doesn’t show it. You leave him to brood and head back into the conference room to help Reid. Rossi goes to join Hotch and you pointedly don’t think about how they’re probably talking about you.

+++

Richard must really love his daughter. He’s not happy to learn there’s someone posing as him on said chatting site, and that they convinced Lila to run away with them. 

He swears up and down that he’ll do anything to help find her. It makes you angrier than it should.

You’re not angry at him, not really. You know it’s misguided anger. You know who you’re really angry at. But you refuse to admit that to yourself, so instead you’re picking fights with your boss.

Although, in your opinion, Hotch started it.

“You’re seriously going to keep me from speaking to him just because he thinks he recognizes me?” You nearly roll your eyes at Hotch, but you stop yourself. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“You’re being defensive,” Hotch points out, his arms crossed like he’s trying to prove a point. “What are you not telling me?”

“Why are you so interested?” you counter, crossing your arms too. You’re not trying to mock him, but if it comes across that way, then so be it. “Trying to get in my pants or something?”

Hotch’s gaze might as well be laced with fire. “Take a walk. Now.”

“Fuck off.”

“Agent—”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m going.” You glare at him over your shoulder as you head for the doors of the precinct.

You shove the doors open with a huff, turning and walking to the left of the parking lot. You’re really wishing you didn’t leave the pack of cigarettes in your hotel room right about now.

What the hell is Hotch’s problem— No, what the hell is Richard’s problem? Why does he think he knows you? How is that even possible? 

You think back. Your dad would’ve been in his sixties now, pushing seventy. Richard is 54. The possibility that they knew each other is small, but still there, and not impossible like you’d prefer. The fact that the possibility is there at all is pissing you off.

You’re not stupid. You know this comes with the territory. You know this is what you get for testing fate like this. But there’s a reason you changed your name. There’s a reason your mom packed everything up and moved halfway across the country with you when you were a teenager. It was a new start, a new life. One where you had no ties to him. None.

So why does some random FBI’s Most Wanted act like he’s seen your face before? Has he? How?

“You’re gonna start a tornado if you keep turning in circles like that.”

“Not in the mood, Morgan,” you say calmly, despite the anger raging through you. “Sorry if he’s being a jackass.” You raise your hand and gesture to yourself, “My fault.”

Morgan scoffs. “Right.”

You shrug. As much as Hotch irritates the shit out of you, you’re well aware you bring it on yourself sometimes. It doesn’t help that he gets under your skin so easily and will have you firing off at any little thing. You bring it on yourself just as much as he starts it on his own.

You’re both at fault and neither of you will admit it. Ever. Over your dead body.

“Come back inside.”

“Can’t. I’ve been exiled.”

“Y/N,” Morgan tries again. “What’s going on?”

You stop pacing. “Nothing is going on.”

“Hotch told me the guy recognized you.” 

You roll your eyes. “Hotch is paranoid.”

“Really? ‘Cause right now you’re looking just as paranoid.”

You shoot him a glare. “Don’t.”

“I’m just saying.”

“I know you are, but don’t, okay?” you all but plead. “Leave it alone. Please.”

Morgan tilts his head. He looks ready to do everything except leave it alone. “You’ll tell me if it’s a problem?”

“Yes,” you nod, meaning it. He’s dead, anyway, so it won’t be a problem. “But it’s really not. And I’m not paranoid, I’m just thinking. Well— Maybe I am paranoid. We need to find her.”

“We will,” Morgan says. “Now, come inside. We need everyone on deck.”

You can’t argue with that and you’re cooled down enough now, so you relent. “Alright.”

You follow Morgan back into the precinct and into the conference room with the rest of the team. You share a look and single nod with Hotch. A silent truce, for now. 

+++

Turns out, a serial killer like Richard does have a lot of enemies, including some who would jump at the chance to torment his daughter. Go figure.

They’re easier to narrow down and pinpoint once Richard actually starts to work with the team. Hotch struck a deal, apparently, to make his sentence lighter if he helps. No death penalty, but still life in prison, after all he’s done.

To your surprise, Richard is relieved about no death penalty. Because, he said, if there’s any chance his daughter will see him one day, he wants to be alive.

It sends a spark of anger through you so hot that you have to walk away. 

You spend the rest of the day with Reid, decoding messages, silently nodding back and forth, and chewing on as many pen caps as you can. It’s probably not good for your teeth, but neither of you care about that right now.

You’re both shocked out of your trances when Morgan comes flying into the room, Garcia on speakerphone, with Hotch and Prentiss right behind them. 

“I found her phone, I found it,” Garcia’s voice comes through the speaker. “Sending coordinates to everyone now.”

“Rossi and JJ are on it,” Hotch answers. “They’re already out.”

“It’s not moving, so it might be nothing,” Garcia says.

You worry for a moment that her phone is thrown in a bush somewhere. And then you feel sick to your stomach when Rossi confirms as much.

“They’re bringing it back here,” Hotch says, his phone still pressed to his ear. “It’s broken, like someone threw it out. Garcia, can you get me any and all CCTV footage in the area?”

“Already ahead of you, sir,” she replies. “Give me five.” The call ends abruptly, no doubt so she can focus and type faster.

“Should we tell Richard?” you ask. “He’s been cooperating, but this could be an extra push.”

Hotch studies you for a moment. “Fine. But wait until they bring the phone. Show it to him.” 

He gives you a look that just screams and if he recognizes you again, you’re out.

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

it's the next best thing - part three (ao3)

part one || part two

Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson || ~22k, complete || phone sex || accidental love confessions || there was only one bed || getting together || mutual pining || porn with plot || smut || wet & messy || friends with benefits || oral sex || rimming

This is the final installment of my gift for @eyesofshinigami for @steddieexchange!

Eddie keeps calling, and Steve always answers. He wears a watch now, wants to count down the seconds until he’ll be able to hear Eddie’s voice again.

He doesn’t want to put a name to the thing fluttering around in his chest as the sound of Eddie’s voice filters down the line. Sometimes, Eddie invites him over, and that’s worse somehow. His skin aches to touch, cross any distance Eddie places between them in his bed, on his couch, in his van at the quarry, smoking together and watching the stars.

The phone sex is slowly replaced with the real thing, hands and bodies fumbling together in the darkness of Eddie’s room.

Eddie still calls, always, updating him on the latest Hellfire session, how Corroded Coffin is doing, what he’s been up to all day.

Sometimes Steve comes over, and they don’t even fuck. On those nights, settled in Eddie’s bed, listening to his even breathing, Steve has to remind himself that this is what friends do. It doesn’t mean anything that Eddie sleeps so soundly at his side, and it doesn’t mean anything when he wakes up with Eddie’s arms around him, face nuzzled into Steve’s neck, breaths puffing wetly against his neck, morning wood pressed into Steve’s hip.

“Why don’t you just tell him?” Robin asks, head propped up by her hands, arms crossed beneath her head, elbow linked with Steve who’s laying right beside her.

They’ve been camped out in the Buckley’s living room all day, spending one of their rare days off together watching movies and tossing popcorn into each other’s mouths. When Robin had missed one too many times, she’d retaliated against Steve by dumping her entire bowl of extra-buttery popcorn atop his head.

“What if he doesn’t feel the same?” Steve whispers back, not looking away from the Buckley’s popcorn ceiling even as he feels Robin shift at his side.

He feels Robin’s arm slip free from his own, leaving him bereft. But then she’s hovering over him, cupping his cheeks with hands still slippery with butter and staring deeply into his eyes. “That boy is head over heels for you, dingus,” she says, not even blinking. When Steve tries to avert his gaze, she grabs his face more tightly, fingernails digging into skin. “It’s impossible not to be in love with you, okay?”

There’s a knot lodged in his throat as he stares up at the other half of his soul. “You’re not.”

She slaps him lightly, hit gentled even further by her oily palm. “I’m a lesbian,” she hisses, voice quiet like even though they’d gone out hours ago, she’s afraid her parents might hear her. “And you know I’d marry you in a heartbeat.”

“I always wanted a sexless marriage,” Steve replies.

“That’s what Eddie’s for.”

Steve shoves her off and wrestles her to the ground. They grapple like children, but Steve’s laughing now, hope bubbling out of him at every seam, like all he’d needed was Robin’s words to be able to picture a future he wants to grow old in.

Steve and Robin, a sexless marriage, and Eddie in his bed, at his side, so intertwined with his life that they’d need a crowbar to pry him out.

Robin wins the wrestling match, forearm against his chest pressing him down into the carpet. Steve’s future’s spooling out in front of him, he can almost taste the too-sweet coffee Eddie would make every morning, the rubbery eggs Eddie and Robin would serve with pride.

“You really think he likes me?” Steve asks, quiet, hopeful, wistful.

Robin snorts and drops down to his chest, rubbing her face against his shirt. “That boy’s in love with you,” she says with so much confidence that Steve almost believes her. “No way in hell he’s just in it for the sex.”

Steve hums but doesn’t reply. There’s nothing to say, no way to describe the squirming, writhing feelings lodged beneath his sternum, kicked up into a flurry by Robin’s words. He wraps his arms around her and squeezes tight, burying his nose in her hair, Sandra Dee serenading Danny Zuko on the TV behind them.

The movie plays to its inevitable conclusion: the boy always gets the girl in the movies, and as the credits roll, Steve glances down at his watch.

He jumps up on instinct, sending Robin sprawling on the carpet with a grunt. “The fuck?”

“It’s almost nine!” Steve cries rushing around the Buckley’s living room, picking up his wallet and keys from where they’d fallen out of his pocket. “I missed it!”

“Just call him,” Robin says, propping herself up on her elbows but otherwise not moving from where he’d left her.

“I don’t have his number,” Steve replies, already stuffing his feet into his sneakers, heels crushing the backs as he tries to wedge them on without having to untie them.

Eddie calls him, always. Steve has never called him back, has never had to.

“I do!” Robin calls, but Steve barely hears her, already out of the house and toward his car, ready to break every speed limit in the book to get to the Munson’s trailer in record time.

What will Eddie think? Will he be worried? Will he think Steve forgot about him? Or worse, will he not care at all?

He peels out of the Buckley’s drive and speeds like his life depends on it.

***

For the first time, Steve doesn’t answer when Eddie calls. Keith had hung up on him after confirming that Steve was off that day, and the Harrington house had just rang and rang before kicking him to the answering machine.

He doesn’t leave a message.

Is this the beginning of the end? First a few missed phone calls, and then pretty soon Eddie hasn’t seen Steve in three weeks. Ten years down the line they’ll pass each other in the grocery store and give those polite little head nods that people give when they used to know someone and don’t anymore.

He collapses onto the couch, pulling the blanket from its back to huddle into as his brain ticks away. It’s just—he knows there could be a million reasons Steve didn’t answer. Really, he does. But, this thing they have has always had an expiration date on it, and he can feel that thought curdling in his brain like rotten milk.

When someone knocks on the door, he doesn’t get up.

The knocks get quicker and louder, like whoever’s out there thinks he might not have heard them. Eddie should open the door before they bust it down, but he’s too busy being in his blanket cocoon, wallowing in his tragic, unrequited feelings.

When the door opens, he freezes.

Footsteps sound into the room, sounding loud against the carpet. Who just walks into someone else’s home when they don’t answer? A robber? But, no, they wouldn’t knock, would they?

“Eddie?”

He bolts up, peering over the back of the couch, blanket still around his shoulders. There, Steve Harrington stands, hair all fucked up like he’d been running his hands through it, eyes trained unerringly on Eddie where he sits, stupefied.

Steve’s wearing the same goddamn sweats as the first time he’d come over, with a cutoff Bowie shirt that has Buckley written all over it, cut short enough that Eddie can see his happy trail, and just the hint of his belly button.

“What are you doing here?” Eddie asks, and it’s only as his voice scratches out of his throat that he realizes he must’ve been crying.

Steve must realize at the exact same time because he says, “have you been crying?” as he takes three quick strides to hover over Eddie, grabbing his cheeks in both hands and rubbing the tacky tear stains off his skin. Eddie averts his gaze, glancing down so he doesn’t have to look at Steve’s imploring face, but that puts him looking directly at his hairy stomach and that’s no better.

Even now, Eddie wants to lick it.

“No,” Eddie says, not looking up until Steve moves one of his hands to below Eddie’s chin and forces his face up.

“Why have you been crying?” Steve asks quietly.

Eddie swallows. It’s loud in the quiet of the living room, no background noise to mask the sound. “You didn’t answer,” he says, and it feels telling, somehow. Like Steve will hear the confession lurking beneath the words.

Steve sighs and sinks down to his knees, putting his face just below Eddie’s, the couch creating a barrier between them that aches like an open wound. “I was at Robin’s,” Steve says, still holding Eddie’s chin gently. “I lost track of time.”

There’s an apology lurking beneath the simple words, and suddenly, Eddie’s so fucking tired of the way they talk around each other, neither saying what they actually mean. “I thought maybe you were done with me,” Eddie says, voice rasping, unused to saying the honest truth.

“No,” Steve blurts, eyes wider than Eddie’s ever seen them. He crowds into Eddie’s space as much as he can with the couch in the way. “Never Eddie, I love you.”

While Eddie’s entire world shifts and rearranges with those words, he sees the exact moment Steve realizes what he just said. His face blanches, eyes widening even further, so much white showing on the edges of that beautiful brown until he sinks down on his heels, wrenching his hands free of Eddie so he can use them to cover his own face.

Eddie stares at him, words ringing in his head. I love you, I love you, I love you. Eddie’s never heard them before, not in this setting, from someone who isn’t Uncle Wayne. The feeling bursts through him, a supernova of light that has him leaning precariously over the back of the couch to yank Steve’s hands off of his face so he can stare into his wide, startled, beautiful eyes, as he asks, “do you really?”

Before Steve even has a chance to answer, Eddie’s leaned too far and toppled off of the couch, sending them both sprawling into the carpet. His elbow smacks into the ground and he doesn’t even care, too busy crawling onto Steve’s supine form and kissing anywhere he can reach. “Really, Stevie?” he asks between each press of lips. “Do you?”

“Yes?” Steve replies, sounding so unsure that Eddie can’t help what he does next.

For the first time, Eddie presses his lips into Steve’s and takes what he’s wanted all along: everything Steve will give him.

***

Steve’s head aches dully from where it smacked against the floor, but he doesn’t care. Eddie’s lips are soft against his. Steve lays on the Munson’s dirty carpet, unmoving with shock as Eddie presses gentle kiss after gentle kiss into Steve’s unresponsive lips. His eyes are open as he stares up at the shadows Eddie’s lashes create on his cheeks, elongated in the dim slanting light filtering across him from the floor ramp in the corner of the living room. 

There’s a dreamy quality to Steve’s thoughts as they tumble around his brain—he’s already mourning the moment he wakes up.

It feels like dying when Eddie pulls back, eyes open now, and mouth frowning down at him. “Sorry, did I misread that?” he asks, squinting down at Steve. “It’s just, you said—and I thought—shit, I’m sorry!”

It’s as Eddie starts to get up, scrambling out of his lap like it’s radioactive, that Steve begins to realize that he’s in the Munson’s living room, awake and aflame with an aching want as the man he loves clambers off of him because Steve didn’t kiss him back.

He didn’t kiss him back.

“No!” Steve cries, too loud in the quiet of the room, arms reaching behind Eddie���s back and yanking him down. Eddie’s bony hips bite into his skin, but Steve doesn’t care. “No, you didn’t—just, what’s happening, man?”

Eddie stops trying to escape, palms big and sure against Steve’s chest as he props himself up, squinting down at Steve in blatant confusion. “Well, first you said you loved me,” Eddie replies, tapping one of his fingers against Steve’s sternum like he’s counting out the order of events for him. “I said it, too, and then you didn’t kiss me back, so I’m lost here… man.”

Eddie’s mouth twists wryly as he tacks on the last word, mockingly amused by Steve the way he always is. Steve notices the smile, he notices everything about Eddie, but his mind’s too caught on Eddie’s words to appreciate it.

“You didn’t,” Steve replies, something unrecognizable in his voice—wonder, maybe. Awe. Eddie’s got a little confused furrow between his brows, so Steve reaches out to smooth it out. “You love me?”

Eddie’s eyes blow wide, brows going up until his forehead’s all crinkled up. “I didn’t?” It’s a question, but Eddie’s already nodding before Steve gets a chance to answer, sharp enough to knock Steve’s hand off from between his eyes. Steve trails it down, settling fingertips lightly against Eddie’s cheekbone, thumb rubbing reverently against his jawline.

Eddie leans forward, fingers trailing up over his chest, over his neck, big hands cupping the expanse of both Steve’s cheeks as he leans down, close enough that all Steve can see is the dark brown expanses of Eddie’s eyes.

“Steve Harrington,” he says, voice solemn. Steve’s gaze flickers back and forth, trying to read every little thought that flits behind those beautiful eyes. “I love you.”

Steve sucks in a breath, and it lodges there, somewhere deep in his lungs. The silence hangs between them, charged with enough electricity to restart his heart.

“…man,” Eddie tacks on again, and Steve chokes on a laugh, breath rushing out of him as Eddie grins, every one of his teeth on display.

“You’re the fucking worst,” Steve whispers as he drags Eddie down, any reply he might have gotten trapped between their mouths.

It’s all teeth at first, Eddie laughing into the kiss until Steve sucks Eddie’s bottom lip into his mouth and bites down hard enough to make him gasp. Steve takes the invitation that’s given, swiping his tongue shallowly into Eddie’s panting mouth just to listen to him whine.

The sound activates something in Steve—something dark that just wants to take. Steve shoves at Eddie’s shoulder hard enough to knock him off Steve’s lap and onto his side on the carpet. He keeps shoving until Eddie’s on his back, pupils blown, hair in a fucked up halo around his head as he looks up at Steve reverently, as if he’s the one that’s divine.

He wastes no time crawling over Eddie’s body, pushing at his knees until his legs are spread wide, kept open by Steve’s weight settling between them.

Eddie, always easy, is already gasping and writhing beneath him, humping up against Steve erratically, desperately trying to get any pressure against the bulge in his jeans. Steve leans back far enough that he can press his forearm into Eddie’s hips, hard enough to still his movements.

Eddie whines, bucking against his hold. Steve waits, watching his needy face twist into something torturous as Eddie realizes that Steve’s not budging. His eyes are scrunched closed hard enough that stars must be bursting beneath his lids. Winded and petulant, finally, Eddie stills.

Steve doesn’t move, doesn’t say anything, until Eddie opens his eyes, lashes wet as he looks up at Steve. He opens his mouth to speak, but clicks it back shut when Steve digs his fingernails gently into Eddie’s hip.

“The fucking worst,” Steve says again.

Eddie swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing with the movement. Steve wants to tip Eddie’s chin up, bite against that spot, suck on it until Eddie begs him to stop.

But then Steve flicks his eyes back up at Eddie’s face, and he gets caught on his lips. His mouth’s slick with spit, bottom lip plumped from Steve sucking on it. When Eddie’s tongue darts out and wets them further, Steve’s lost.

He’s powerless to resist removing his hold from Eddie’s hips, letting their bodies slide back together so he can kiss Eddie’s wanting mouth. Eddie writhes against him again, hips rabbiting up. Steve wants to press him back into the carpet, keep his stupid fucking handcuff belt from clacking with his movements, but he can’t bring himself to stop kissing Eddie’s lips long enough to achieve it.

He settles for delving into Eddie’s mouth with his tongue, shoving it far enough back that Eddie chokes on it. He goes slack beneath him, mouth open wide, practically begging Steve to go deeper. He can feel Eddie’s erratic heartbeat from where his hand is cradling his neck, thumb pressed hard into his pulse point.

Only when he feels like he’s about to pass out does Steve leans back far enough to catch his breath. They’re both panting into each other’s open mouths. There’s a tremor running through Eddie’s entire body as he gazes up at Steve, eyes half mast.

“Steve,” he pleads, asking for something with just his eyes.

Steve rubs his neck, soothing him like a lame horse as he asks, “what do you need, baby?”

Eddie’s eyes shut, and he shudders as the term of endearment leaves Steve’s mouth. Steve keeps rubbing his skin, smoothing over acne scars and freckles alike as he waits for Eddie’s brain to come back online.

He opens his eyes, pupils blown all to shit as he looks up at Steve, still silent, still begging.

“What do you need?” Steve asks again.

Eddie swallows, cheeks darkening from a lustful pink to a painful-looking red as he finally, blessedly answers. “In my mouth?” he asks. When all Steve does is continue to rub his neck, he clarifies, blush traveling from the apples of his cheeks all the way to his ears. “Your dick in my—in my mouth.”

Steve leans down to kiss his cheek, the blood pooling beneath Eddie’s skin warm against his lips. “Anything you want,” Steve murmurs against his skin. “Thank you for telling me.”

Eddie shudders, dick twitching against Steve’s from the confines of his pants, but he doesn’t otherwise move as he waits to find out what Steve will do.

What he does is scramble back, too far gone to play it cool any longer as he shoves his sweatpants down just far enough that his painfully hard cock springs free. At the sight of Steve bared before him, Eddie bucks against him again, trying to knock him off. Steve sits down hard, settling his full weight on Eddie, pinning him to the carpet.

Eddie melts, stilling as he looks up at Steve like he’s something precious. It hits Steve straight in the sternum, that look—lust intertwined so inexorably with love that Steve can’t figure out where one ends and the other begins.

No one’s ever looked at him that way before.

Eddie waits beneath him, suddenly a font of patience as he waits for Steve to rise above the tide of emotion, cock still hard in the warm air of the Munson’s living room. The tide swallows him up—Steve lets it, nothing but love in his voice as he grabs his hard length, scoots up Eddie’s supine form, and nudges at his chin until his mouth drops open, warm breaths puffing against where he’s most sensitive.

“Open up,” Steve murmurs, hand moving from his chin, caressing up to his smooth cheek as he slides into Eddie’s warm, open heat.

***

Steve’s weight is pinning Eddie down into the carpet, hand firm enough against his face that no matter how hard he tries, he can’t get more than the tip of Steve’s dick into his mouth. He’d lost all sense of time somewhere between Steve telling Eddie he loved him and sliding himself into Eddie, but it feels like hours have passed with Steve shallowly thrusting into his mouth.

Eddie sucks on the head, trying to get a little more, aching to be filled. He whines when Steve pulls back out, pace unhurried as his thighs flex against Eddie’s ribs, barely pressing himself back inside. Eddie moans, low enough in his throat that his tongue vibrates against the head of Steve’s dick. Steve jerks, thrusts in deeper with a grunt. 

Steve’s cock’s deep enough that he’s choking on it, mind blank as he gasps for air. “Fuck, your mouth,” Steve mutters as he shifts back, almost pulling himself free entirely.

That’s the idea, Eddie tries to say, words coming out unintelligibly garbled around Steve’s length. The vibrations must feel good because Steve thrusts in again, harder this time, head barely breaching the back of his throat. Eddie whines, scrabbling unseeingly for Steve’s hips, trying to keep him there, so deep that Eddie’s lips are pressed against his pubes.

It doesn’t work, Eddie’s grip is too weak to stop Steve from pulling back as Eddie cries futilely on his cock. But this time, while Eddie sucks hard at the head of Steve’s dick, he thrusts in again, fast enough that it almost hurts.

He does it again. And again. And again, until Eddie’s hands go lax, lost to the sensations playing against his tongue. He swirls it around Steve’s shaft, memorizing the musky taste of his warm skin, senses overwhelmed as he loses all sense of reality.

Steve’s all-consuming, eating up Eddie’s remaining higher brain functions until he can only think in monosyllabic words like more, and fuck, and come. He’s harder than he’s been in his life, dick painfully pressed into the confines of his still-buttoned jeans as he humps up into the air, desperate.

Steve shifts his hand from Eddie’s cheek and into his hair, gripping his tangled tresses to yank his head up, craning his neck uncomfortably as he pushes himself impossibly deeper. Eddie gags, jaw straining around the girth of Steve’s cock, light headed from oxygen deprivation.

Steve pulls out, letting go of the hold on his hair suddenly enough that Eddie’s head thunks into the carpet, eyes staring unseeingly up at the ceiling until Steve’s own worried face blocks it out. 

“You okay?” he asks, hands brushing gently against his cheeks, trailing over his neck and down beneath the collar of his shirt like he’s looking for wounds.

“Why’d you stop?” Eddie asks, the sound of his own gravely voice sending another wave of lust through him that has his hips twitching, neck straining to get Steve back in his mouth. “Please, please, please.”

“You’re crying, baby,” Steve whispers, hands still too soft against him.

Eddie blinks, only then noticing the burn of his eyes, the way his eyelashes are clumping together. “Want it,” Eddie begs, voice fucked. “Please.”

Steve stares at him for another endless second, unblinking. Eddie watches something unfathomable shift behind Steve’s eyes, understanding dawning into something darker, as Steve scrambles back just enough that he can lick the tacky tears off of Eddie’s cheeks and out of his lashes once Eddie closes his eyes.

Then Steve’s tongue is back in Eddie’s mouth, wetter than before like Steve had let saliva pool in the back of his throat before feeding it to him. His tongue fucks into his mouth, licking so far into him that he must be able to taste his own precome at the back of Eddie’s throat. Steve doesn’t stop when Eddie chokes. Eddie wants more.

As if hearing his thoughts, Steve pulls back, ignoring Eddie’s bereft whining as he straddles his ribs again, sure fingers gathering up Eddie’s hair tenderly at the back of his skull before clenching his fist, pulling against the hair follicles hard enough that Eddie’s eyes start watering.

Steve doesn’t hesitate this time as he fucks into Eddie’s mouth, yanking Eddie’s face up and down in time with his thrusts, using him for his own satisfaction.

He’s never been more turned on in his life.

His own hips are twitching, desperate for anything as Steve thrusts again, and again, and again, forcing Eddie to take what he’s given.

As Steve’s thrusts grow sloppy, he lowers Eddie’s head to the carpet, letting go of his hair entirely to grind himself against Eddie’s face. He’s deeper than he’s ever been, the entire head of his cock in Eddie’s throat, devolving into a dirty grind, barely thrusting like he can’t bear to part from the warm clutch of Eddie’s body even for a second.

Eddie’s so lightheaded that spots are bursting behind his eyes, and his throats convulsing as he gags against the intrusion. 

It’s loud in the quiet of the living room, the dirty wet sound of Steve’s cock pushing itself into Eddie’s throat, forcing him to take all that he has to give until he’s gagging, that sound somehow just as wet, just as lewd. Eddie can’t hear anything else, ears muffled by the press of Steve’s thighs against his ears. 

His brain’s gone numb, oxygen deprived and fucked stupid as Steve, takes, and takes, and takes until Eddie’s crying with it. 

Steve doesn’t stop—Eddie doesn’t want him to. He’s hardly been touched, and yet he damn-near feels like he might come just from the musty taste on his tongue.

He wants to die with Steve Harrington’s cock down his throat.

But when Steve’s dick starts twitching, he pulls it out, ignoring Eddie’s begging as he strips it, tip close enough to Eddie’s mouth that he can almost taste it. He opens his mouth, ravenous for anything Steve will give him.

“Please,” Eddie asks, and like that’s all he’d been waiting for, Steve’s cock pulses and spills, creamy white liquid painting itself all over Eddie’s face.

He milks himself through it, waiting until every drop has been spilled before he lets go of his spent cock and uses his fingers to spread the mess around Eddie’s face, scooping up come and tears alike and feeding them into Eddie’s panting, open mouth.

Eddie closes his mouth around the intrusion and sucks.

“What do you need?”

***

Eddie’s sucking on his fingers, eyes closed, tongue sliding sensually between them like he can’t bear to miss a drop of the come Steve had fed into his mouth. Steve’s soft cock gives a valiant twitch where it’s drooping between his legs. If he hadn’t just come harder than he had in his entire life, this would be enough to send him over the edge.

“Eddie,” Steve says, pulling his fingers free and using both hands to grab Eddie’s sticky cheeks, waiting until his hazy eyes open to ask again, “what do you need?”

Eddie’s twitching beneath him, hips rolling like all he wants is to fuck something, but when he finally speaks, he says, “fuck me,” with enough need that it comes out as a command.

Steve’s dick twitches again before slumping pitifully back into itself.

“I just came,” Steve says, feeling orgasm dumb and almost as desperate as Eddie. Eddie closes his eyes again, sniffs like he’s going to fucking cry, he’s so horny. Steve pets at his cheek, suddenly desperate to give him anything he wants.

Steve tucks himself back into his sweats, sliding off Eddie, entire body shaky as he kneels between his raised knees, hands trembling against the handcuff clasp of his belt. The handcuffs clacking against each other is loud as it echoes through the room. “This fucking belt,” Steve mutters, fingers fumbling to get it open. “So fucking loud over the phone, Eddie, you have no fucking idea.”

Eddie groans, hips twitching, making undoing said belt even harder, but when Steve’s gaze snaps up, Eddie’s mouth is hanging open, lips still covered in Steve’s own spend. He stares, gobsmacked by the sight of him once more—the mess he’s made of him. But, when Eddie’s hips twitch again, Steve trails his gaze back down, flicking his wrist just right to unclasp the stupid belt.

“Do you know how fucking crazy it made me,” Steve demands, belt clacking loudly as he shoves it out of the way, fingers shaking against the button of his jeans.

“You’re one to talk,” Eddie replies, voice gravelly and wrecked. Steve wants to pour honey down his throat, soothe the ache before fucking that rasp right back into his mouth all over again. “Those fucking sweatpants, Harrington?”

Steve looks down at his own sweatpants, perplexed. They’re stained with grease on one of his hips, and loose enough to be unflattering. “What—”

“You look so soft,” Eddie cuts in, “want to slide my hand into your pants while you make fucking breakfast.”

The image hits Steve in the chest—him at the stove, Eddie behind him, chin hooked over his shoulder peering into the pan as he slips his hand beneath the waistband of Steve’s sweats, stroking him as he scrambles their eggs.

“Fuck,” Steve says, desperate as he flicks the button on Eddie’s jeans open, yanking them and Eddie’s underwear down together.

Eddie’s dick’s harder than Steve’s ever seen it, tip purple and already leaking like just Steve looking at it is almost enough to send him over the edge. It looks damn-near painful, pointing directly up at the ceiling, waiting for Steve to touch it.

“That’s the idea,” Eddie replies, grinning when Steve looks back up at his face.

It takes a second for Steve to place that as an answer to his expletive, and when he does, he bends down, licking one long stripe up Eddie’s cock just to hear him cry before hooking his arms under Eddie’s knees and shoving them up, practically bending Eddie in half as he makes himself at home between Eddie’s legs.

“What are you—” Steve licks over Eddie’s hole, making Eddie’s question trail off into a startled moan.

When no further questions come his way, Steve adjusts, letting go of Eddie’s legs so they settle over his shoulders, and licks at him again, this time with more purpose, wriggling his way inside the tight heat of Eddie’s body as he twitches.

“Holy shit.”

Steve hums in reply, gratified when the vibration makes Eddie’s entire body jolt like he’s been electrocuted. He does it again, worming his tongue in deeper, the fit tight enough to almost hurt.

He pulls back. “No, no, please,” Eddie begs, voice going quiet and breathing turning erratic as Steve spits on his hole once, twice, three times, thumbs pulling him open enough that the saliva sinks into him. “Shit.”

Steve licks into him again, drawing back just far enough to suck at his rim hard until Eddie shouts. Eddie contracts then loosens, Steve sinking his tongue into him, deeper this time. Eddie’s squirming like he’s not sure whether he wants to move closer or twitch away in overstimulation. Steve doesn’t give him a choice, uses one arm to hold against Eddie’s bent thighs, pressing him into the carpet to keep him still.

His other hand finds its way between them, pointer finger pushing into Eddie’s hole, skin tugging against skin until Steve spits into him and sinks it in smoothly past the first knuckle. Eddie shouts again, entire body vibrating as Steve fucks into him with his finger, torturously slow.

“Good?” Steve asks, finger never stopping its movement as he leans back to survey his spoils. Eddie’s dicks even harder now, and he’s writhing, head shaking back and forth, eyes squeezed shut, mouth open as he pants for breath. “Eddie?”

When he still doesn’t answer, Steve stills his finger where it’s still stuffed inside Eddie’s body, watching as his whole face crumples in on itself. “Eddie,” Steve says again, voice commanding enough that Eddie opens his eyes, tears clinging to his lashes as he peers down at Steve between his legs, gaze hazy and unfocused. “Still good?”

Eddie nods hard enough that his neck cracks. “Don’t stop,” he begs.

Steve doesn’t have to be told twice. He moves his finger again, thrusting with more force as he leans back down, licking around the intrusion with enough pressure that his tongue sinks in right alongside it.

He adds his middle finger, licking between them as he pushes them in deep and then curls them, finding the spot inside Eddie’s body that makes him beg to stop, beg for more, cry for anything.

Eddie’s been hard since before he got Steve’s cock in his mouth, long before Steve had begun finger fucking him in earnest, so he’s not surprised when it only takes a few more thrusts at that spot inside him for Eddie to smack his shoulder hard in warning.

“Steve, Steve, I’m gonna—”

Steve fucks in his fingers harder, hand cramping as he pounds into Eddie’s body even as he clenches around him, mouth suctioning at the side of his rim as he fucks Eddie through it. He keeps it up as Eddie’s legs settle more firmly against Steve, hand dropping bonelessly to the carpet, body going pliant around Steve’s breaching fingers.

Steve leans back, gently removing his fingers and easing Eddie’s boneless legs to the floor. When Steve finally catches sight of his cock, he groans at the sight of the mess Eddie’s made. It’s in his pubes, on his shirt, pooling on his own fucking neck.

He lays over Eddie’s lax body, uncaring of the mess he’s making of his own clothes as he scoops some of the come from Eddie’s neck and slips it into Eddie’s open mouth, waiting for him to suck it clean from his fingers before pulling it free.

He presses his lips to Eddie’s, absurdly gentle for the debauchery now covering Eddie. Steve doesn’t care, so full of love he’s fit to burst. Eddie kisses him back, just as soft, opening up for Steve like a sunflower toward the light.

Steve keeps kissing him, never wants to stop even as his lungs constrict with the need to breathe. When he finally is forced to pull back for air, he keeps his forehead pressed to Eddie’s breathing in the same air that Eddie’s panting out.

They stay like that for a long time.

Eddie’s pliant when Steve finally pulls him up off the floor, and ushers him into the bathroom. He’s quiet when Steve strips him down, pushing him into the shower to clean them both up with soft hands, Eddie half-asleep against his shoulder.

Steve dries him off and brushes his hair while he’s seated on the toilet seat, eyes closed. Eddie leans into each touch like a cat being stroked, soft even in the fluorescent lights of the Munson’s small bathroom. 

“C’mon, baby,” Steve murmurs, pulling him to standing and wrapping a towel around him before leading him through the dark trailer and into his own bedroom.

He digs through Eddie’s discarded clothes until he finds them both clean boxers to change into. Steve ignores Eddie’s little questioning hum as he leaves the bedroom to fetch a glass of water, coming back as quickly as he can.

Eddie’s still standing where he left him, at the foot of the bed, eyes trained on the door. But, when Steve hands him the water, he drinks, wincing as the cold water hits his throat. It must hurt, but he drinks it down. 

Steve takes the empty cup back, leaving it on the desk to tuck them both into Eddie’s cold bed, warming his sheets up with their combined body heat. 

Steve doesn’t know what time it is, but it’s dark, and there’s sleep pulling at him, made more appealing by the warmth of Eddie’s body beneath his hands, heads sharing the same pillow.

“Did you mean it?” Steve whispers, can’t help it with Eddie warm and pliant beside him. “You weren’t just horny?”

Eddie’s eyes are soft in the light filtering in from the window, mouth quirked in amusement as he replies, “I’m always horny.” His hands are gentle as he caresses Steve’s eyebrow, cheekbone, jaw. “But I meant it.” Steve waits, breathless and hopeful for Eddie to say it again.

“I love you.”

Steve tucks his face into Eddie’s neck, kissing the skin he finds there. “Love you, too.”

Eddie’s arms wrap around him, pulling him impossibly closer, hidden away in the safe haven of Eddie’s bedroom, swaddled in worn-soft sheets.

***

For once, Steve’s still in bed when Eddie wakes up. His arm’s slung around Eddie’s waist, a warm brand pushing him into the mattress, and their legs are tangled between them, knees pressed against one another. It’s warm, cozy where the trailer’s usually chilly on a winter morning.

Steve’s head is on the same pillow as Eddie’s, close enough that he can count every one of his eyelashes, breath puffing gently against Eddie’s cheek. He stares at him bathed in the morning light filtering in through his closed curtains, breathless.

He wants to reach out, touch him softly. It takes him a minute to remember that he can.

Steve groans when Eddie’s hand cups his cheek, a small disgruntled sound as he scrunches up his nose in his sleep. Eddie soothes at his jaw with his thumb, enamored. It takes a few brushes against his skin for Steve’s eyes to blink open, still hazy, barely awake. 

When he catches sight of Eddie, he smiles like it’s a reflex, small and sleepy. Eddie leans forward, breaching the scant inches separating them to press his lips to Steve’s gently, mouth open and wet. Steve hums and kisses back, lips just as soft.

It takes a few long moments for Eddie to get his fill and lean back, heart constricting in his chest with the breadth of his feelings when he catches sight of the little smile still on Steve’s face.

“Your mouth tastes like ass,” he says, still smiling all soft and warm even as Eddie sputters.

“Your mouth tastes like ass,” Eddie retorts, jabbing him in the chest when all he does is laugh, voice still sleep-rough. “After all, it wasn’t me who…”

When he trails off, Steve’s grin sharpens, grows fangs as he leans closer to Eddie, their noses brushing as he continues where Eddie left off. “Had a tongue up someone’s asshole.”

He moves reflexively, shoving Steve hard enough to send him tumbling off the edge of the bed, disappearing from sight. He stares at the now-vacant spot beside him for a long moment before scrambling forward on the mattress, peering over the edge. Steve’s splayed out on the carpet, half in a pile of Eddie’s dirty laundry, eyes wide as he stares up at Eddie.

“Shit, sorry, I panicked!” Eddie cries, reaching down toward Steve’s prone body to help him up.

Steve’s fingers wrap around his wrist and he yanks, sending Eddie tumbling off the bed right after him, landing half on top of him as he cackles.

“What the fuck?” Eddie asks, but Steve’s got his arms wrapped around him again, pulling him into his bare chest, and it’s hard to maintain any level of disgruntlement with all that bodily contact.

“Sorry, baby,” he soothes, fingers brushing through Eddie’s hair until he melts into him fully, letting his head settle in the crook of Steve’s neck. “Just wanted you close to me.”

Eddie huffs, but kisses the warm skin beneath his lips. “Smooth talker,” he mutters like it’s a complaint, and not the main reason they’d even gotten this far. If it wasn’t for Steve and his smooth fucking words, Eddie would’ve never moved past cheesy pick-up lines and desperately frequent phone calls. 

Before Eddie can think of something suitably clever to say, there’s a knock on Eddie’s closed bedroom door, and Wayne calls, “boys, breakfast.”

“Coming!” Eddie calls back, even as Steve goes stiff and unyielding beneath him. He plants his hands on Steve’s pectorals, levering himself up enough to peer down into Steve’s spooked face. “You okay?”

Steve swallows, throat clicking dryly as he nods unconvincingly. Eddie stares him down, waiting for the truth to spill out of his stupid, perfect lips. “What if he doesn’t like me?” Steve blurts, face immediately pinking as Eddie stares down at him, gobsmacked.

“Wayne?” Eddie demands, sitting up so he can get a better look at Steve’s expression, knees bracketing his hips. “He loves you.”

“But that was before,” Steve replies, leaning up on his bent elbows, forearms straining beneath his weight as he tilts closer to Eddie, whispering like he’s afraid Wayne’s got his ear pressed up against the door. “Before we started dating.”  

Eddie can’t help the way he grins when that word leaves Steve’s mouth. It’s just—love is one thing, but dating? Dating implies things that Eddie’s been trying desperately not to want. It’s dinner together, and holding hands covertly at the movies, and parking up at the quarry to look at the stars. 

There are actions involved in dating, a future laid out before him if only he’s brave enough to grasp it. Eddie bends his neck down, pressing one quick kiss to Steve’s cheek, afraid that if he goes for the lips, they won’t emerge from this room until breakfast has long since gone cold.

Steve stays on the ground as Eddie jumps up, invigorated, and begins rifling through his drawers for suitable clothing. He pulls on his own change of clothes first, taking the time to pull on jeans and his belt now that he knows it drives Steve crazy.

“Hate to break it to you, Stevie,” Eddie says, throwing a clean shirt toward him with enough accuracy that it blankets his face entirely, “but Wayne definitely already thought we were dating.”

He throws a pair of sweats at him too and saunters out of the room, closing the door on the sound of Steve’s sputtering.

He hits the head, and by the time he leaves the bathroom, Steve’s already sitting at the table, looking sleep-rumpled and warm as he talks with Wayne.

“—stay here much more, and I’ll have half a mind to charge ya rent,” Wayne’s saying as Eddie slides into his seat at the table.

Steve’s smiling as he reaches out, linking his fingers with Eddie’s beneath the table before settling it on the top, for all the world to see. “I can live with that,” he says, squeezing Eddie’s hand, eyes twinkling blindingly at him.

Eddie blushes, and looks down at his plate, already piled with fluffy pancakes. He eats with his left hand, still clutching Steve’s with his right, getting syrup all over in his hair, but it’s worth it for the way Steve’s thumb keeps rubbing against his own. 

Wayne doesn't comment, but Eddie catches him eyeing their hands, something parental and pleased in the way he asks Steve about who he’s rooting for in the latest sportsball tournament. 

He never lets go of Eddie’s hand. 

The phone doesn’t ring until they’re standing side by side at the sink, Eddie washing as Steve dries, the water running cold thanks to Wayne’s morning shower. He hands the plate he’s working on over to Steve and grabs the receiver with soapy hands.

“Yello,” Eddie says, looking over at Steve just to watch him roll his eyes.

“He better be with you,” Robin’s stern voice crackles down the line. “Because no one’s answering at his house, and if he went off to die in the woods or something because you broke his heart—”

“I wouldn’t do that,” Eddie interrupts, unsurprised when Robin talks right over him.

“—I’ll never forgive you, Eddie Munson.”

He waits just long enough to make sure she’s done berating him before turning to Steve, “it’s for you, dear.”

Steve sets the plate he was drying on the rack, and takes the phone from Eddie’s hands.

“Robin?” he asks, somehow so in-tune with his long lost younger twin that he knows it's her even before she’s spoken. Eddie loves them both so fucking much. 

As he goes to finish the dishes alone, he keeps an ear open to Steve’s side of the conversation.

“Sorry, Bobby, I got distracted.” Eddie grins, movements slow as he washes the soap off a mug, unwilling to miss any of the conversation that he can catch. “Yeah, yeah, you were right,” Steve says, sounding exasperated before he drops his voice even lower. But, Steve’s always been a shit whisperer, and Eddie still hears it. “He does like me.”

Eddie grins as he dries the last mug before turning around, bracing his back against the counter as he watches Steve speak to his best friend. He looks soft in Eddie’s borrowed sweatpants, hair going every which way after he’d gone to sleep with it still wet last night. 

Eddie wants to keep him forever. And, as Steve hangs up the phone and pushes into Eddie’s space like he belongs there, it hits him suddenly that he might get to. Maybe, if Eddie’s really lucky, Steve might even want him to. 

“I’ve gotta head to work soon,” Steve murmurs, crowding Eddie into the cupboard and pressing their lips together gently. “But, I’ll see you later?”

For the first time since this whole thing started, he sounds nervous. Hopeful, like there’s any chance at all of Eddie declining. “Whenever you want,” Eddie replies, cupping his face and staring into his eyes. “Any time, any place, I’m yours, baby.”

Steve beams, happy and in love, as he leans forward to press one final kiss against Eddie’s lips, and then he’s gone.

He buzzes for the rest of the day, always on the cusp of rushing out the door to surprise Steve during his shift. But, if calling too soon after the first date is taboo, turning up at their place of work is even worse. What’s the protocol if you’ve been having sex for months and only just put a label on it?

Their usual call system has presumably gone to shit. Steve hadn’t mentioned it, and Eddie was too nervous to ask. They’re dating now, all the previous rules of their relationship overwritten, no matter how he’ll miss Steve every night at eight p.m., the association baked straight into his DNA.

But, Steve hadn’t asked him to call, and Eddie doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing, so he sits, and he stews, and he waits to hear from Steve, hoping “later” actually translates to “soon.”

Eddie already misses him.

Still, he’s hovering by the phone as the hour hand on the clock creeks closer and closer to eight. He’s not going to call. He won’t. But just as the hand ticks over, the phone rings. 

Eddie rushes to answer, fingers fumbling enough that he drops the receiver and has to dive for it, cracking his knees on the ground. He barely notices the pain as he presses the phone to the side of his face, buzzing with a sickening mix of desperation and excitement. 

“Hello?” he says, embarrassingly breathless as he waits for something besides static to crackle down the line.

“What are you wearing?” Steve asks, voice suggestive and sly.

Eddie grins.

And, that's it! I hope you all enjoyed it! As always, thanks to @queenie-ofthe-void for their wonderful beta editing, and also for encouraging me in getting out of my comfort zone with this one. I couldn't do it without you <3<3<3

[faithsotherhouseofchaos]

Lost fidget toy|| Mick Schumacher x autistic fem!reader

Summary — reader lost her fidget toy and Mick helps look for it

Word count — 733

Fluff

A/n- this was requested by an anon I hope they are still around and this is from my old tumblr account

Also I LOVE writing for autistic reader and reader with adhd since I have both

Y/N’s hands trembled as she tore through the drawer for the third time, her breathing uneven and shallow. Papers, pens, and random trinkets littered the floor around her, but the one thing she needed was nowhere to be found. Her fidget toy—the one item that grounded her, especially on overwhelming days—was missing.

“It has to be here,” she muttered, slamming the drawer shut with a little too much force. The noise startled her, a sharp sound in the quiet apartment, and her frustration bubbled over. “Stupid! So stupid!” she snapped at herself, tears blurring her vision.

She dropped to her knees, shoving aside the coffee table, the cushions, even the rug. Her movements became frantic, her chest tightening as her mind spiraled.

“Why do I always lose things? Why can’t I just keep track of one stupid thing?” she cried, her voice cracking as the first tear slipped down her cheek. “I can’t do this. I can’t—” Her words dissolved into a sob.

She sat back on her heels, gripping her knees as she rocked slightly, the overwhelming panic settling like a weight on her chest. Her breath hitched, her mind a chaotic mess of self-blame and worry.

The sound of a key turning in the lock startled her. The door opened, and Mick stepped inside, his usual cheerful expression instantly replaced by concern when he saw her on the floor amidst the chaos.

“Y/N?” he called gently, setting his bag down as he took in the scene. “What’s going on?”

She didn’t respond, her face buried against her knees. Mick crouched a few feet away, careful not to startle her further.

“Can you tell me what’s wrong?” he asked softly, his calm voice a stark contrast to the storm inside her.

Her head lifted slightly, tear-streaked cheeks and red, puffy eyes meeting his worried gaze. “I lost it,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I can’t find my fidget toy anywhere, and I’ve looked, and looked, and—” She broke off with a hiccup, wrapping her arms around herself.

Mick moved a little closer, his expression soft. “Okay. It’s okay. I’m here now. Let’s take a moment to breathe, yeah? Just focus on me for a second.”

“I can’t—I can’t breathe properly,” she stammered, her voice rising.

“You’re doing fine,” he reassured her. “Just follow me. In… and out.” He inhaled deeply, then exhaled slowly, keeping his movements steady and exaggerated.

Her breaths hitched a few times, but eventually, she mirrored him, her shaky exhales gradually evening out.

“There we go,” Mick said with a small smile. “You’re doing great. Now, let’s figure this out together, okay? Where did you last have it?”

“I think… on the couch,” she murmured, wiping at her cheeks. “I was using it while I watched TV this morning.”

Mick nodded, his voice encouraging. “That’s a good start. Let’s check around there.” He moved to the couch, crouching to peer under it while carefully lifting the cushions.

Y/N sat still for a moment, clutching her sleeves tightly. Seeing Mick so calm and focused made the crushing weight in her chest a little lighter. She pushed herself to her feet and started clearing the scattered items, her movements still shaky but more purposeful now.

“Got it!” Mick exclaimed a few moments later, his voice bright. He pulled the small fidget toy from under the coffee table and held it up triumphantly. “Looks like it decided to hide from you.”

Relief crashed over her like a wave, and she rushed forward, taking the toy from him and holding it close to her chest. “Thank you,” she whispered, fresh tears spilling over—this time out of gratitude.

Mick straightened, his warm hands settling on her shoulders. “You don’t have to thank me. You’ve had a tough day, and that’s okay. I’m just glad you’ve got it back now.”

Y/N nodded, but the guilt lingered. “I’m sorry I freaked out. I should’ve—”

“Hey,” Mick interrupted, his thumbs brushing comfortingly against her shoulders. “Don’t apologize. Everyone has moments like this. You’re allowed to feel overwhelmed, and I’m here to help. Always.”

Her lips quirked into a small, grateful smile. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Mick grinned, pulling her into a warm hug. “Good thing you’ll never have to find out.”

As she fidgeted with the toy in one hand, Mick held her close, gently rubbing her back. For the first time all day, the tension in her body melted away, replaced by the soothing comfort of Mick’s presence.

And though the apartment still lay in disarray, nothing else mattered. Mick was here, and that was all she needed.

[silenttrxxs]

a night of sin ft. Yunho

nsfw!

you groaned, sitting up from your bed as you looked around, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. You stretched as you trudged your way to the coffee machine. You shook your head noticing the familiar face standing in the kitchen sipping his tea. “Morning Hwa. How’d you sleep?” You asked smiling a little before putting the pod in the machine and leaning against the countertop facing him. “Good, I tidied the place by the way.. hope you don’t mind, I guess we have really been putting you through your paces a bit too much huh?” He said a giggle leaving his mouth before taking another sip of his tea. You laughed and nodded in agreement. You never knew taking place of their manager would have you running literal laps for days on end with not a single chance to even eat for yourself it was a godsend that hwa befriended you and took care of things when you couldn’t.

“We have soundcheck soon love, just reminding you” hwa said checking the time on his phone and watching as you downed the rest of your coffee and ran to your room. You threw your clothes around and grabbed a cute dress and jacket, sliding your shoes on before stuffing everything into your bag and standing in front of hwa. “Ready…” you laughed as he stood shocked and shook his head opening the door and ushering you to the car. He took shortcuts to the venue in hopes that it would ensure you’d both arrive on time, luckily you had 10 minutes to spare. You smiled and got out the car, walking over to the other members.

“Well hello there animals how are we today” you said walking up to the members as they crowded around talking amongst each other.

“Oh hey y/n, tired… but we have a surprise planned I think you will love it” San says, laughing and shooting a slight smirk to yunho.

You shook your head and ushered the boys into the green room. You made sure everyone was ready and took to the floor to run through sound check. You clapped and waved as they walked off stage, taking a moment to speak with the engineers and staff before heading back to the green room.

You wondered what this surprise would be, you saw nothing wrong with soundcheck. Not a single hint of anything unusual, the niggling feeling creeping into your mind as you pondered. You gasped when you felt a pair of arms wrap around your waist. Looking down you sighed a breath of relief. “San, you scared the shit out of me then” you said giggling before resting your head back onto his chest. He smiled as he held you in his embrace a little. “Sorry my love but if been dying to hold you all day, and I want to give you your surprise before we have to change.” San said smirking as he walked with you in his arm towards an abandoned room. Pushing the door open and guiding you in. He turnt and let out a breath of relief before capturing your lips with his own. You gasped and let out a little noise, your hands immediately finding solace around his neck, the kiss becoming more heated, both your bodies colliding together towards the couch. You huffed a little as you hit the soft fabric below. “S-San w-what’s the surprise?” You questioned as he smirked down at you, he grabbed his phone and sent a quick text before giggling and looking at the door. You gasped as you watched yunho walk into the room, a blush evident on his face and ears as he saw you both. You looked at the pair before coming to the same conclusion, you are well and truly fucked.

Yunho smiled and sat down next to you, his frame much bigger than yours, but his aura pulling you closer, you leaned into him as he captured your lips with his. “I’ve been waiting years to do this” Yunho breathed out. His hands roaming your body as he moved your head gaining access to your neck, peppering the soft skin, his teeth grazing ever so lightly eliciting a soft moan to erupt through your throat. This noise causing both men to groan, the tightness of their pants becoming evidently more of a problem.

San continued to massage your thighs, spreading your legs apart as he watched yunho take his time to mark your neck. You moaned loudly as you looked down the sight before you was something you’d dreamed of. You never thought you’d feel anything like this. You gasped when you felt his breath fanning closer to your core. The heat causing you to leak your juices into your panties. You whined when you heard him. “Fuck look at you, so wet because of us baby” he breathed out before moving your panties to the side, his mouth attaching to your clit, eliciting a long moan from you as he played with your clit. His tongue moving inside you at a brutal pace. You almost screamed when you watched yunhos hand caress your body. His long fingers coming to massage your clit, you tried to keep your hips still as you felt Sans tongue enter you, yunhos fingers rubbing and pinching the sensitive bud. His breath hot against your neck as he spoke. “I want to feel you soak my fingers baby, make a mess of us precious” he said before nibbling your earlobe a little.

You gripped onto the couch. Your knuckles white as you felt your walls clench around Sans tongue. He moaned into your core as you felt your legs shake. The impending orgasm flooding through your body as you came. You whined as you felt the emptiness of San moving. You opened your eyes and gasped, you watched as the two men above you kissed deeply, the taste of your essence coating their mouths.

[coolgrl111]

STALKER ! (part two)

fratboy!patrick zweig x reader

part 1

the moment she hit the call button, patrick moved. fast. faster than she expected. he darted around the bed, his hand closing around her wrist before she could lift the phone to her ear.

“no, no, no,” he said, his voice a low, desperate plea. “don’t do that. you don’t need to do that.”

she froze, her breath hitching as his grip tightened just enough to keep her from breaking free. his face was close now, too close, his features a mix of panic and something darker, something wild.

“let go of me,” she said, her voice trembling but firm.

patrick hesitated, his gaze flickering between her face and the phone in her hand. “i’m not going to hurt you,” he said softly, almost tenderly. “i would never hurt you.”

“you’re hurting me now,” she shot back, her voice gaining strength.

he blinked, like her words had broken through some fog in his mind. his grip loosened, and he stepped back, his hands raised in surrender. “okay. okay, i’m sorry. see? i’m letting go.”

she didn’t waste a second. as soon as he released her, she bolted for the door, her heart pounding like a drum in her chest. but patrick was quicker.

he slammed the door shut before she could reach it, his palm flat against the wood.

“please,” he said, his voice cracking. “just listen to me. i—i don’t know how to say this without sounding crazy, but you’re all i think about. you’re in my head, all the time, and it’s like… like i can’t breathe without you.”

“patrick,” she said, her back pressed against the door, her eyes wide with fear. “this isn’t normal. this isn’t okay.”

he flinched, the words hitting him like a physical blow. “i know it’s not okay,” he said, running a hand through his hair, his composure unraveling. “but i can’t stop. you’ve got this… this hold on me, and i don’t know how to break free. i don’t want to break free.”

she pressed herself harder against the door, her fingers inching toward the handle. “you need help,” she said, her voice shaking. “real help.”

patrick laughed, but there was no humor in it. “help? you’re my help. don’t you see? you’re the only thing that makes sense in my life.”

“this isn’t love,” she said, her voice rising. “this is obsession.”

the word hung in the air, heavy and damning. patrick stared at her, his chest rising and falling as he struggled to find the right words, the right way to make her understand.

“maybe it is,” he said finally, his voice soft, almost broken. “but it’s all i’ve got. you’re all i’ve got.”

her hand finally found the doorknob, and with a quick twist, she flung the door open. she ran into the hallway, her bare feet slapping against the cold floor as she shouted for help.

patrick didn’t follow. he stood in the doorway of her room, watching her disappear down the hall, his heart aching in a way he couldn’t explain.

“you’ll see,” he murmured to himself, his voice barely audible. “you’ll see I’m the one who cares the most.”

and then, just like that, he was gone.

—

the next morning, her dorm felt like a crime scene. sunlight sliced through the blinds, sharp and unforgiving, exposing the wreckage patrick had left behind—her desk chair overturned, books scattered like broken promises, her phone lying abandoned where it had fallen during her panicked retreat.

her roommate walked in, still smelling like cheap tequila and regret. she stopped in her tracks, taking in the mess. “what the hell happened here?”

her throat tightened. “nothing,” she said quickly, the words brittle and sharp as glass. “just… knocked some stuff over.”

it was a terrible lie, and they both knew it. but the truth? the truth was unspeakable.

she spent the day moving through campus like a ghost. every sound behind her made her heart jump, every pair of eyes felt like his. patrick.

but she didn’t see him.

he wasn’t gone, though. she could feel him.

she couldn’t have known that he was closer than ever, watching her every move with predatory precision. the guy behind her in line at the coffee shop, the one who just happened to know her name, wasn’t a coincidence. the student sitting two rows back in her lecture hall, just within earshot of her plans, wasn’t random.

patrick wasn’t gone.

he was embedding himself into her world, inch by inch.

when she got back to her dorm that night, she locked the door with trembling hands. checked the windows, the closet, under the bed. every shadow in the room felt like it might move. but it didn’t.

she lay awake, clutching her blanket like it was armor, willing herself to sleep.

and then, at 3:04 a.m., her phone buzzed.

the message was waiting for her: “you left your scarf at the library today. i’ll bring it back to you.”

her blood turned to ice. she hadn’t been to the library. she didn’t own a scarf.

her breath came in short, shallow gasps as she stared at the text. she deleted it, but the damage was done. the walls seemed to close in around her, suffocating her with the knowledge that patrick wasn’t just watching—he was playing a game.

she also wasn’t expecting a knock at her dorm door that night, when most of the hall was quiet and the thought of opening the door felt like inviting something sinister in.

but the knock came again—soft, hesitant, as if the person on the other side wasn’t sure if they wanted her to answer.

“who is it?” she called out, her voice steady despite the pounding in her chest.

“art,” came the reply, muffled through the door.

art. she’d seen him once or twice at parties, always lingering near patrick like a shadow, quiet where patrick was loud, detached where patrick burned too brightly.

“what do you want?” she asked, gripping the door handle but not turning it.

there was a pause, then a sigh. “can we talk? it’s important.”

every instinct screamed at her to leave it locked, but something in his voice—an edge, a weight—made her pull the door open just enough to see him standing there, hands shoved deep into his jacket pockets, his expression strained.

“what is it?” she asked, keeping the door partially closed between them.

art glanced down the hall, then back at her. “can i come in?”

“no.”

he huffed out a breath, nodding slightly. “fair. look, i’m here because… you need to know something. about patrick.”

the sound of his name sent a jolt through her, but she tried to keep her face neutral. “what about him?”

art hesitated, his jaw tightening as he searched for the right words. “he’s… not okay,” he said finally. “he’s been acting—look, i don’t know how to say this without it sounding insane, but he’s obsessed with you. like, really obsessed.”

she felt the air leave her lungs, the confirmation she didn’t want to hear settling like a stone in her stomach.

“i know he’s been… showing up,” art continued, his voice low. “and i know you’re probably scared. you should be. patrick doesn’t know how to stop himself once he’s fixated on something. or someone.”

her grip on the door tightened. “why are you telling me this?”

art’s eyes softened, guilt flickering across his face. “because i’m his friend, but i’m not blind. and if he hurts you… i don’t think i can live with that.”

“how do i stop him?” she whispered, the question barely audible.

art swallowed hard. “you can’t. but i might be able to. just… stay out of sight for a while. keep your door locked. and if he shows up, call me.”

he slipped a piece of paper through the gap in the door—a phone number scrawled hastily—and then he was gone, leaving her alone with the chilling weight of his words.

patrick was obsessed. and now, it felt like the walls were closing in faster than ever. would she ever feel safe again?

[justwhisperingfantasies]

The One That Got Away -4- smut +18

Characters: Reader. - Jensen Ackles - Eric Kripke - Karl Urban - Antony Starr - Jack Quaid - Erin Moriarty - Karen Fukuhara - Chace Crawford - Tomer Capone - Seth Rogen -Lily [o.c] - Brett [o.c] - Angela[o.c] - Carla [o.c] - Bill [o.c]

Summary: Jensen comes to Toronto to read over his contract with his lawyer and tries to make you realize your marrying the wrong guy. Finding out how far the limits can be pushed before something breaks.

Warnings: Language. Drinking. Cheating. Angst. A smidge of smut. A dash of fluff. A whole lot of jealous.

A/n: I played with inner thoughts in this one. ‘These are inner thoughts.’ Also the -♡- banner is just a change in scene not pov. This one hurt to write. I promise things will get better. Hope y'all enjoy.

Master List

Reader

Your phone started to ring as you hit the start button on your Keurig.

You sighed. “Eric, I haven’t even had my coffee yet.”

He chuckled. “Good morning sunshine. I was just calling to make sure you got all the info.”

“Yes, I did. I’ll be there at 3 to pick him up.”

“I’m sorry, they called an emergency meeting.”

“Eric it’s not your fault. I really don’t mind.”

“I know I’ve been asking a lot of you. Just want you to know I appreciate you. And I promise it will pay off in the long run.”

“I know you do. And it better Kirpke.” You teased.

 He laughed “I’ll see you at 4 kiddo.”

“Bye.” You hung up and opened your text messages.

[y/n]: I’ll be there at 3 sharp Ross. Don’t be late! 😝

You heard the front door open. “Hey, hey!” Lily yelled as she walked it. She looked around your apartment. “Still no Brett?”

“Nope,” you started another cup of coffee for her.

“Have you talked to him?”

You leaned back on the counter “Nope. Not since Tuesday morning.” You took a small sip of coffee. “But it’s ok bc I got a text that night and last night.” You said in a mocking tone.

“What did he say?”

“Angela needed him. They ran late. He’s staying late at his place.” Lily made a face. “Don’t”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Sure, as hell thought it though.”

She shrugged. “When you’re right, you’re right.”

Jensen

“Hmm you’re smiling pretty big at that phone. I wonder who is texting you.” Jared teased him.

“Shush.”

“Is she picking you up?”

“Yep.”  Jensen smiled again “thanks for bringing to the airport J.p.” he said getting his suitcase out of the back.

“of course, man. Tell her I said hi and spin her around for me. Would ya?”

Jensen chuckled. “I will.”

“Safe travels.” He gave him a one arm hug. “Love you.”

“Love you too man. I’ll text you when I land."

--------------------------------------♡--------------------------------------

The last 4 hours had been unbearable. He tried to sleep, didn’t happen. He Tried watching a movie, didn’t work. Tried playing a game on his phone, couldn’t keep focus. The only thing he could think about was seeing her again.

He heard the captain’s voice over the p.a system. Giving the local time and weather then welcoming them Toronto.” ‘Finally,’ he thought to himself

He stepped into the gate and there she was, leaning on a high-top table off to the side of the room, coffee in hand. “Nice hat, babe.”

“Oh, this old thing. It’s from an ex.”  She smiled as she opened her arms.

He wrapped his arms around her. “So, this is from Jared.”

“Jensen Ross No.” She protested, but she was already off the ground. He spun her and put her feet back on the ground. “Damnit Ackles.” He laughed. “You’re lucky you didn’t spill my coffee.”

“Yeah, thanks for mine.” He teased. She slid a second cup from behind the sign on the table.

“You’re welcome.” He smiled. “Did you really think I would stop for coffee and not get you one.”

He took a drink. “I’m more surprised you remembered what to order.”

“Please. I’ve ordered yours and Jared’s so many times they are burnt into my brain.” She teased as they walked toward the doors

--------------------------------------♡--------------------------------------

“So, holding onto an ex’s hat.” He said as he closed her car door. “You must still have feelings for the guy.” He winked at her.

“You can’t throw out a perfectly good Cowboys hat.” She smirked at him.

He chuckled. “Sure, you keep telling yourself that.”

She rolled her eyes, pulling out of the spot.  “So, we have about an hour until we have to be at the restaurant, what do you wanna do?”

“I wanna see these sets!”

“Jensen…”

“Oh, come on, You’re like second in command.”

“Ha, no I’m not”

 “But you can get me in…” She narrowed her eyes. “Wouldn’t be the first time we snuck around on a tv set.” He wiggled his eyebrows.

Reader

“Just remember to act surprised when Kirpke brings you back here later.” You told him walking into the studio.

“I promise.”

You walked up to the reception desk. “Hey Carla.”

“[y/n], Didn’t know you were coming into today.”

“Yep, got a potential cast member, he wants to see the set.” You pointed to Jensen standing in the middle of the lobby. Her eyes followed your finger and then gave him a once over.

“Sure.” She said she started typing on her keyboard, her eyes glancing between her screen and Jensen. “Got you checked in.” She handed you a visitors’ badge and leaned in. “Do you know if he’s single?”

“Thanks. And no, he’s not.”

“Figures.” She pouted. “Anytime.”

You turned around and walked back to him. “You ready?” You reached out the badge.

“Absolutely.” He said with a wide smile.

Reader

“Just remember to act surprised when Kirpke brings you back here later.” You told him walking into the studio.

“I promise.”

You walked up to the reception desk. “Hey Carla.”

“[y/n], Didn’t know you were coming into today.”

“Yep, got a potential cast member, he wants to see the set.” You pointed to Jensen standing in the middle of the lobby. Her eyes followed your finger and then gave him a once over.

“Sure.” She said she started typing on her keyboard, her eyes glancing between her screen and Jensen. “Got you checked in.” She handed you a visitors’ badge and leaned in. “Do you know if he’s single?”

“Thanks. And no, he’s not.”

“Figures.” She pouted. “Anytime.”

You turned around and walked back to him. “You ready?” You reached out the badge.

“Absolutely.” He said with a wide smile.

--------------------------------------♡--------------------------------------

“So, this is the holding chamber for Ben.” You said as you stepped in and leaned back on the cot inside. “You’re first scene, you will be emerging from this.”

He smiled as he approached it. “Very cozy.” He teased.

“Well, it’s a holding chamber Ross. Not a 5-star hotel.”

“I’m not even sure I’ll fit in that.” 

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Please, you could probably fit 2 people in here.”

He raised his eyebrows. “We could test that theory.”

Your breath felt short as he started to step inside.  His celadon gaze locked on your eyes. He licked his lips, keeping his bottom one tucked between his teeth. Inching closer to you. ‘Stop him. This is bad’ you thought, but the yearning suppressed your words.

“Hey!”

His head dropped in disappointment as he left out a soft sigh making you giggle. He turned around holding up his badge.

“Holy shit! You’re Jensen Fucking Ackles!” You recognized Seth’s voice, and you stepped out. “Babes!”

“Hey Seth.” You tried to be enthusiastic to see him. “Jensen this is Seth Rogen. One of our producers. Seth this is Jensen.” You gestured towards them. “Jensen didn’t want to wait. He just had to see the sets.”

“Wow. I’ve heard great things about you.” Seth said as he rushed over, hand already out. “Jesus, look at you I mean you’re hot on tv, but in real life Wow.”

Jensen’s head rose slightly as he chuckled. “Well thank you.” you smiled as you noticed the pink in his cheeks.

“Did you guys need anything?”

“Nope. We were just about to take off. We gotta go meet Eric. He just wanted a sneak peek.” you explained. You grabbed Jensen’s hand and started toward the lobby doors. “Not our first time getting caught either.” He chuckled.

“Alright. If you guys need anything you have my number.” Seth called after you.

--------------------------------------♡--------------------------------------

“So, what does your Fiancée “he said the word in a mocking tone. “Think about the sets?” he asked closing the passenger door.

You started the car and sighed. “Not sure yet.”

“You mean he hasn’t seen them?”

“Nope.”

“Why not?”

“Too busy.” You huffed.

Jensen

He noticed her whole demeanor shift. Something happened. ‘What did that motherfucker do now’ he wondered.

“Do you.” He hesitated “Wanna talk about it?”

“Not really.”

“Alright, well I’m here,”

“I know.” She shot him a smile. He knew it was fake.

She stayed silent, biting the inside of her cheek. He knew exactly how to get her mind off it. “So, we got the steelers tonight?”

“Yep.”

“Who do you think is gonna win?”

She slowed down for the redlight and shot him an unamused look “Why would you ask a question you already know the answer to?”

He chuckled. “I don’t know babe, they are starting Gilbert.”

She sighed. “I know.”

“It’s not looking too good for us.”

“Do you wanna walk?”

He laughed. “I’m just sayin’.”

“Well keep sayin’ and those cute little bowlegs will be walkin’.”

He smiled. “You really think they’re cute?”

“Shush.” She rolled her eyes, making him laugh.

--------------------------------------♡--------------------------------------

As they entered the restaurant, he spotted Eric, sitting at a big table with three guys he didn’t know, Lily, and Brett ‘Eye roll’ with a women sitting awfully close to him, for someone who wasn’t the women he was planning on marrying. He noticed [y/n]’s face when she saw them,

He caught her arm as she started to walk toward them. “Wait, who are these people?”

“Well, I was gonna introduce you,” his scrunched his lips. “Alright. You know Lily, Eric, and Brett. The big guy sitting next to Eric with dark hair is Karl. He’s awesome. Y’all will be besties in 5 minutes. The smaller dark hair guy beside him is Antony. Also cool. He’s a little bit more reserved than Karl. And the little guy is Jack. Also cool. Kinda shy though.”

“And the woman?”

“That’s Angela.”

“We don’t like her?” he could tell by the way [y/n] said her name she didn’t.

“Not really, but I still have to put up with her. So be nice.”

“I’m always nice.”

“Right…  come on.”

“Oh. There’s my girl!” Karl said standing up to give her a hug. A little too excited for Jensen’s liking. “How are you, my love? How was Vegas?”

‘Who the fuck was this guy’

“I’m good Karl. Vegas was fun. Got to see my Supernatural fam.” She matched his enthusiasm

“I see you brought one of them back with ya,” He stuck out his hand to Jensen “Karl.”

Jensen shook his hand. “Jensen. How could anyone stay away from her?”

Karl chuckled. “I like him.” he told [y/n] as he sat back down

Eric stood up and put his hand out “Jensen.”

Jensen smiled. “Kirpke.” He saw [y/n] sit beside Brett out of the corner of his eye.

Eric walked him over the other guys, “This is Antony, Antony Jensen.” He shook Antony’s hand. “You know Lily.” She smiled and Jensen winked at her. “This is Jack. Jack, Jensen.”

“God, you’re good lookin.” Jack said as he shook his hand.

“Jack he’s already pissed off. You and Karl are gonna make things so much worse for her.” Lily whispered.

Jensen looked up to see Brett whispering in [y/n]’s ear, Her eyes a little misty.

“And this” His attention turned to Eric. “Is Angela. One of the executive writers on the show.”

“Nice to meet you, ma’am” Jensen said sticking his hand out.

“Ma’am? Seriously?” She shook his hand. Then gave a flirty smile. “You are cute, so I’ll let that one slide.” He noticed [y/n] narrow her eyes at Angela.

Eric and Jensen walked over the 2 empty seats. Eric took the one beside Karl, so Jensen sat in the last empty one, next to [y/n]. Jensen dropped his phone. Leaning to pick it up he whispered. “You, ok?” She nodded.

“[y/n] Dallas plays today?” Jack asked gesturing to her hat.

“Yep.” Jensen along with Karl and [y/n] said.

“Didn’t peg you for a Cowboys fan, Karl.” Brett snarked.

“Well, if my love likes something than I like it too.” Karl retorted, she shook her head and opened her menu.

‘Seriously who the fuck was this guy.’

“So, Angela. You and Brett have been pretty busy writing. Anything juicy yet?”

“Um baby,” Brett interjected “We are not at liberty to discuss. They are unsigned talents sitting at the table.”

“Oh bud, you don’t have to worry about me. I ain’t goin’ anywhere.” He gave Brett a huge grin.

Reader.

‘This was such a great idea. Thank you, Eric.’  You thought

“So, babes.” Karl said. 

‘Fuck what now Karl’ 

you raised your brows at him. “We saw the sets this morning. They are fucking fantastic!”

“Right?! The crew did a phenomenal job!” you replied.

“So did the designer.” He winked at you. “Has anyone not seen them?”

“I haven’t yet.” Jensen said.

“Liar. Seth already called me fangirling over you.” Eric said, raising his eyebrows. “Busted again.”

Jensen gave you a smirk.

“We haven’t seen them yet.” Angela said gesturing to Brett and herself. “We’ve been so busy actually writing though.” She took a sip of wine. You rolled your eyes.

“So [y/n].” He said louder than necessary, grabbing everyone’s attention. “Learning how to be a showrunner. Huh? Bet that comes with a lot of responsibilities not many actual writers could handle.”

You heard Eric choke on his drink as you looked up at Lily who was biting back a smile.

“Not many spouses could handle being with a runner either.” Karl jabbed. You mouthed the word stop to him. Jensen and Karl laughed.

“Would you like something to drink?” The waiter asked, looking at you.

“God yes, Corona bottle please.”

His eyes flashed to Jensen. “Make that 2.” He nodded and walked away.

“So what time is kick off?” Antony asked

“8:15, but everyone is meeting at Bill’s at 7.”  You told him.

The waiter brought back the beers and took everyone’s food order.

You leaned over to Brett “Are you coming?” you whispered in his ear.

“Can’t gotta work.”  You sighed and started to sit straight he caught you and brought you back over to him. placing a kiss on your cheek. “Don’t be mad at me. I promise I will make it up to you.”

“Secrets, secrets.” Karl said.

“Are no fun.” Jack finished for him

“Karl, if you must know. I was just telling her what I was planning on doing to her tonight.” Brett sneered. He took a sip of wine and added “With my tongue.”

Jensen’s and Karl’s jaw clenched as the tension hung in the air. Say something you mouthed to Lily.

“So, Jensen. Soldier Boy huh? What do you think?” Jack asked. Thank you, you mouthed he nodded.

Jensen smiled. “Oh, he’s gonna be a lot of fun.”

“Fucking asshole though.” Brett said.

“Beautifully written asshole.” Karl chimed in.

“Still an asshole.” Brett replied.

“So. Who’s all gonna be at the table read tomorrow?” you asked turning to Eric.

“Uh, Jensen, Karl, Antony, Jack, Tomer, Erin, Karen, Maybe Chace and Laz.” He took a sip of his drink. “And Me, you, Rebecca, Phil, Robert, and Seth.”

“Hm, So small?”

“Well, everyone wants to meet your Soldier Boy.” Jack commented.

Brett rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to say something but closed it as the waiter started passing out everyone’s food.

‘Thank god!’

--------------------------------------♡--------------------------------------

As you stood up to put your coat on Karl walked over, to give you a hug and kissed both of your cheeks. “Don’t miss me too much love.”

You shook your head, he smirked. “I’ll see you later.”

Everyone said their goodbyes, as the group walked toward the doors.

“Can I walk you to your car, beautiful.”  Brett asked you

“Sure.” You rested your hand in the crease of his stuck-out elbow and glanced over your shoulder. Jensen was talking with Lily, but his eyes were on you.

“So, you gotta talk to Karl again.” Brett said as you walked. “I hate how he talks to me and how he talks to you around me.”

“Really? you wanna talk about your little friend with the actually writing comment?”

“I told you. She’s just jealous because you’re learning the ropes of runner and she’s not.”

“She still shouldn’t talk to me like that. And it shouldn’t have been Jensen coming to my defense. It should have been you.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I just don’t want to get fired.” He turned to you once you got to your SUV. “I’m not as close to my boss as you are, But I will say something I promise.”

“You better.” He raised his brow. “And I will try with Karl.”

He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you in for a kiss. “I love you.” he told you. “3 weeks and 2 days, baby.”

“Yea if you don’t have to work.” You teased. He tickled your sides making you giggle.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world. I’ll see you after the game.” He started walking backwards, dropping his arms. “Go Cowboys!” he did a fist pump making you smile.

You opened the door and hopped in your suv. Jensen was already sitting in the passenger seat. Arms crossed on his chest; jaw clenched as he looked out the door window.

You pulled out of the parking lot in, the car silent as the tension hung in the air. “So how screwed do you think our boys are?” You tried breaking it. He stayed silent, you glanced over, arms still crossed, jaw a little tighter now, looking out the window.

You reached for his knee, you felt his muscles tensed as you squeezed repeatedly, but his face was stone.

You sighed resting your hand back on the wheel.

“So, who the fuck is this Karl guy? Another guy after your heart?” He insisted,

You laughed, “Awe, Jensen is jealous.” He glared at you. “Don’t be. It’s really not like that with Karl. He just likes pissing Brett off.”

Jensen

“You should have been there, Jared. Everyone was giving him shit. It was the funniest thing.”

Jared laughed through the phone. “It does sound entertaining. I just hope she doesn’t get any backlash from it.”

“Well, I did overhear Lily say something about that when I walked past her and Jack. If he hurts her, I’ll kill him.”

“If he hurts her you will wait for my ass to get up there and we will both kill him.”

“And he was sitting closer to this Angela chick, then he was to [y/n] if you didn’t know, you would have thought they were the couple.” Jensen continued ranting. “And then the bitch said We haven’t seen the sets yet because we have been actually writing. That coward didn’t stick up for her at all. So, I did.” He explained what happened.

“Get ’em Ackles.”

Jared laughed. “So do you think the plan is working?”

“Fuck, hard to tell with her. She’s so damn stubborn. I really don’t understand what she sees in him.

“Hang in there buddy, she has to come to her senses.”

“I freaking hope so.” There was a knock on the door. “Speak of the devil.”

“Kinda hard not to, she’s all you talk about.” Jared teased.

“Oh, shut it,” he said walking to the door. “I’ll call you later.”

“Be safe, have fun.”

“Bye, bud.”

He laughed as soon as he opened the door, as she stood there an oversized, foam, blue cowboy hat on. With Go Cowboys written on the sides.

“What? I don’t look cute?” She asked smiling.

“You know you always look cute, ya dork, a little big though.” He flicked the brim. “Does this mean I get to wear my hat?”

“Um, the hat has been in my possession for over 10 years now. Its mine.” She took the foam hat off and pulled his on backwards.  

‘Damn!’ he bit his lip.

“I brought this one for you.” She smirked holding it out to him.

“Nope.”

“Come on Ross. You’ve worn it before.” She raised her brows.

“Would you like me to wear it the exact same way?” He asked, reaching for the button of his jeans.

She chuckled. “As tempting as that is, Bill’s has a strict no shirt no shoes no service rule.” He smiled. “Plus, last time you took your pants off you told me no.”

He grabbed a white hat with a D on it and put it on. “Wasn’t a no. It was a not yet sweetheart.” He grabbed his coat and followed her out the door.

“Yeah, yeah.” She said as they walked down the hallway, eyeballing the hat he just put on. “I like that hat.” She winked at him.

“Don’t even think about it.” he smiled.

--------------------------------------♡--------------------------------------

Lily and Karl were sitting in the front seats of [y/n]’s suv. A younger guy got out of the back door. “Bout time.” He said with a big grin.

“Oh, shut up.” She teased me back. “Jensen, Chace. Chace, Jensen. He plays The Deep and he’s about as full of himself as his character.”

“Oh, so this is your Soldier Boy. So nice to finally meet you.” Chace stuck out his hand. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Jensen shook his hand. “From whom?”

“So, why the Chinese fire drill?” She changed the subject, making Jensen smile.

“I figured you were tired of driving.” Lily answered, “And Karl just kinda stole my seat, and then Chace stole his. and Jack didn’t move.” Lily chuckled.

“You guys are dicks,” She shouted getting in the 3rd row seat.

“I’m cool though, right? I didn’t move.” Jack joked.

“Takes one to know one, babe.” Karl laughed as Lily pulled out of the parking lot.

“So, what have you been saying about me?”

“Who said it was from me?”

“Kinda gave yourself away by changing the subject, sweetheart.

“At least you didn’t get any details.” She pushed the tip of tongue past her lips.

He chuckled. “Better watch sticking that tongue out.”

“Or what?” she provoked.

“Why don’t you keep doing it and find out sweetheart.” He challenged her.

She smirked at him, and he raised his brow.

She laughed and pressed her tongue against her lips, making them bubble out, taunting him.

“Chicken.”

She pulled his ear to her lips. “At least I don’t need an excuse.” She took his face in her hands and pulled his lips to hers.

Reader

You and Lily made a B-line for the restrooms as soon as you stepped in the bar.

“Hey Bill!” you shouted at the man standing behind the bar as you passed.

“So, making out in the back of your suv?” Lily asked as the bathroom door shut.

“Well, I blame you and the musical seat shit. You know I lose all self-control with him.”

“Maybe that should tell you something.”

You sighed.

“What are you going to do?”

“What can I do Lily?”

“Whatever you want. So, what if Brett was there. If you think Jensen is going to make you happier in life. Then you need to break things off before it’s too late. If you really think Brett is your soul mate. And I don’t mean just because he helped you. Then tell Ackles to back off.”  You sighed. “And hell, if you want, tell both of them to fuck off. I just want you to do what makes you happy.”

“I know.” You wrapped your arms around her. “I love you Lil.”

“I love you too. Now let’s go watch your boys.”

--------------------------------------♡--------------------------------------

When you re-entered the bar area the boys were pushing tables together. “Moving the furniture around like you own the place huh?”

“Don’t worry yourself, love, Bill gave us the go ahead.”

“I’ll grab some pitchers.” You offered and walked toward the bar. “Let’s just start with 2 Bill.” 

“Hey pretty lady.” You heard his accent as he approached you from behind, and you knew it was Tomer.

“Hey, you know you’re like the 4th guy to hit on me today.”

“Whoa, look at you.”

“Not so great when you have a super jealous fiancée.”

“No, I wouldn’t Imagine so.”

“Thanks Bill.” You said as he sat the pitcher on the bar.

Tomer grabbed one and you grabbed the other one.

“Babe, Elliot is hurt too. They don’t know how much he’s gonna play today.” Jensen said as he started separating cups.

You closed your eyes and sighed. “This is probably going to be a shit show.”

“A round of shots might make it a little more bearable.” Karl laughed.

“No.” You and Lily said together, Jensen’s head lifted as he let out a laugh. Your eyes stayed on the TV as steelers have the ball.

“Here.” Tomer took the pitcher and started filling cups. “Go watch.” You sat in an empty seat by Jensen as the cowboys kicked off. Jensen smiled at you. “So, where’s Brett?”

“Working.”  You looked up to catch Tomer and Karl exchange a look. “What?”

“What?” Karl asked.

“What was that look?” you questioned.

“Nothing.” Karl replied. You narrowed your eyes. “It was seriously nothing.”

Your eyes went back to the TV.

“Oh my god.” You head feel in disappointment at Gilbert slid to the ground on his first play.

“Seriously?!” You exclaimed as they missed a pass.

“For fucks sake.” You shouted when they got nowhere, having to punt the ball away.

“I missed your commentary during games.” Jensen winked at you.

The cowboys were winning going into halftime. “Well Gilbert might be able to pull this off.” Chace said pouring another glass of beer.

“You probably just jinxed it.” You raised your glass beside his.

“If they lose, I doubt it’s because of me.” He smiled and filled your glass. Jensen chuckled and headed for the restrooms.

“So, babes, be honest. How much trouble did we get you in today?”

“None yet.” You took a drink. “I am supposed to talk to you about how you treat him.”

“Oh, is he going to talk to that cunt about what she said to you?”

“I brought it up. He said he was going to. And I told him it shouldn’t have been Jensen coming to my defense.”

Karl smiled “But it was.”

“I know.”

Jensen

“Chace, it’s your fault. You jinxed them.” [y/n] yelled walking out of the bar

“Babe. They had injured players, and they had to start their 4th string quarter back. I don’t think Chace is the problem.”  Jensen countered

“Well, I’m blaming him.”

Chace chuckled. “It’s cool I can take it.” Chace shot Lily a look and she pulled [y/n] to the side. Jensen stepped into the suv and took the same spot in the third row. He draped his arm on the back of the seat. [y/n] made her way back beside him, a little closer than before.

“So, Chace, what did she say about me.” He asked as Lily started to drive.

Chace looked over his shoulder, her glare making him laugh “Oh ya know. How great of an actor you are, she told me I’d be shocked at how tall you are when you’re not standing next to Jared, how pretty your green eyes are.”

“Alright. Let's.” She tried to change the subject

Jensen cut her off.  “Keep going.”

“How good you are to your fans.” Karl chimed in.

“How sexy your deep voice is.” Jack said in a smitten tone.

“How good you’d look in your supe suit.”

“Lily! You’re supposed to be on my side!”

“Right sorry. She didn’t say that.” Lily smirked

“How disappointed she was Saturday nig .”

“Can we stop?”  She cut Karl off making him laugh

“Let the man finish his sentence.” Jensen teased.

“Karl do it and I’ll kill Butcher off.” Laughs filled the suv.

“You’re so cute when you get red.” Jensen poked the red spots on her cheeks.

She sighed “Shut up Ross.”

Karl was the first to get dropped off. Chace moved the front seat, but she didn’t move, so he didn’t either. Then Lily stopped at another hotel, Jack hopped out. “See you guys tomorrow.”

 He leaned toward “So you were disappointed?” whispering into her, making her breath hitch.

“Well duh. You got me all horned up and didn’t follow through.” She whispered back.

“I don't want to be your drunken regret.”

“Yeah, like anyone would ever regret having sex with Jensen Ackles. Drunk or not.” He smiled.

“Alright kids.” Lily said, pulling up to an apartment complex. “You sure you’re ok to drive?” looking back at her.

“I had like 2 beers. I’ll be alright.” She climbed over the middle seats and out the door. She poked her head back in. “You gonna sit up front Ackles?”

He climbed out as she hugged Lily. “See y’all tomorrow.” She called after them.

“So, you gonna tell me what this is all about?” Jensen asked fastening the seatbelt in the passenger seat.

She chuckled. “They are kind of a thing. That’s, that’s why Lily pulled me aside before we left. To see if I could drop them off last. Nobody else knows,”

“You sure you’re ok to drive.”

“I wouldn’t get behind the wheel if I didn’t think so.” She insisted, pulling out of the complex

“I was just asking.” He smiled. “So, you wouldn’t have regretted it huh?”

“Nope.”

“And you would of told him?”

“Yep.”

“What would of happened?”

She chuckled. “I don’t know.”

“Wanna find out?” He flashed a devious grin.

She smiled and shook her head “You had your chance, Ross.”

“Seriously?! “ he wailed

She raised her brow.

Her muscles tensed as he leaned into her ear, resting his right hand on her thigh. “And there’s no persuading you at all?” He whispered in her ear.  

“Jensen…” She whimpered as his hand started to slide up.

“Tell me to stop and I will.”

“I’m trying to drive.”

“Is that a stop?”

“I don’t know.” She whispered. He stopped his hand.

He chuckled. “What am supposed to with that?”

“I don’t know.”

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.” His hand started again, making its way to her inner thigh, he felt a twitch as she let out a soft moan when his fingers rubbed against her clothed center,

She stopped for a red light and turned to him. His lips crashed onto hers, as the pace of his fingers quickened. She moaned into his mouth making his cock twitch again. His jeans got tighter as his fingers rubbed, his cock twitching at every pretty little noise she made, they jumped at the blaring of car horns.

She pulled into his hotel’s parking lot. Parking the car, she let out a sigh.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Bullshit, tell me sweetheart.”

“I just.” She was cut off by her phone ringing.

He rolled his eyes when he saw Brett on her radio screen. “Hey.” She greeted as he tapped the answer button on her steering wheel.

“Hey baby, did the game run over?”

“No, just dropping people off.”

“Are you done?”

“Jensen is the last one.”

“Huh. Imagine that.” Jensen scoffed. “Well, could we hurry it up. I wanted to spend time with you tonight.”

“Yea. I’ll be there soon.”

Reader

“So, you’re going home?”

“I have to Jensen.”

“Right.” He crossed his arms, clenching his jaw.  “Tell me somethin’.” His voice seemed colder.

“What’s up?”

“Why him? What makes him so damn special?”

You let out a hefty sigh.

“I don’t get it. He’s a fucking jackass babe. And you know it.” You looked over, his eyes still out the window. “He’s an asshole to you, to you friends.”  He snapped. “Hell, he wouldn’t even let you invite Jared. Your best fucking friend of 15 years to your wedding.” He unfolded his arms and gestured emphatically. “I don’t care how much you don’t like a person. Which how in the fuck could anyone not like Jared.”

You knew what you wanted to say but knowing it would hurt Jensen, so you kept your mouth shut.

He continued. “He didn’t greet you at all when you walked into the restaurant, after ignoring you for 2 days,”

“How did you.”

“Lily told me.” He cut you off. “Seriously all you got for 2 days was Sorry babe we ran late. Gonna stay at my place because it’s closer.” He used a mocking tone. “And you act all lovely dovey with him. Hell, he hasn’t even seen your sets yet. How can you be with him?

Your hand clutched the steering wheel now, knuckles white. “Ross...” You fought your explanation back.

“Don’t Ross me. Tell me Damnit.”

“He was there!” The words exploded out of your mouth “When I was at rock bottom, When I felt like I didn’t have a single person on my side. He was there.” Tears brimmed your eyes “When you did what you did,”

“Oh, this again.”

“Yes, Jensen that again. You don’t get it.”  

“So, explain it to me.” his voice was softer now.

“When you told me you cheated, it broke me. I didn’t know how I would recover, or if I even would recover. Brett was there. He plugged the hole you left.” He scoffed. “Nothing romantic at first. He was just a friend. Someone I could talk to. Someone that comforted me. When we started filming again, it still hurt like hell, but he made it bearable.” Fidgeting with your  sleeve you continued “Then the night before your wedding. And you actually said I do to her, it tore that hole right back open again.” He opened his mouth, but you raised your hand stopping his words. “I know, but back then it fucking killed me. I couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep. I wasn’t even living. Just went through the motions. You told me that your world ended when our relationship did. Back then I was wishing mine really would have.”

He grabbed your hand and brought it to his lips. Tears dripped on your arm as he held it there.

“He was the only person that knew how bad off I really was. He helped me recover. I know he can be an asshole and sometimes we fight, but I’m not sure if I would have survived everything without him.” Jensen stayed silent, you slid your hand on his face and brought his head over, laying it on your shoulder. “Knowing everything I have been able to let go of the grudge, being around you doesn’t suck like it used to.”

“But it still sucks?”

You sighed “I love you Jensen. I will love you for the rest of my life. And sometimes I just wanna take your stupid face and kiss the crap out of it, I wanna do all the couple things we used to do.” you heard a small chuckle. “But I can’t just leave him, after everything he did for me, I owe him a lot more than that.”

He sat up, reaching for the door handle. “I get it you’re with him because you owe him.” he opened the door and got out, standing there “Funny how not once in your whole reasoning did you say anything about loving him.” He shut the door and walked away.

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[deerbeatrice]

Afraid -

⚠️ black brothers again. angst. abuse. ⚠️

Sirius had a small fear. Well actually, he had lots of fears over time. When he was 7 he was afraid of spiders. They had way too many legs and his nanny had told him about this huge spider that might have killed a girl at school. He kept this fear for a year until Regulus found one under the sink and begged Sirius to just take it outside. When he was 10 his mother and father sat down and repeated every page of the fantastic beasts over and over. At 10 years old Sirius was afraid of werewolves, unicorns, centaurs, even pixies. When Remus Lupin cried in Sirius' arms about being a monster, Sirius decided werewolves weren't that scary.

"Pads?" Remus was looking at Sirius with a small smile. Sirius looked away from the bookshelf he was building to see Remus crouch down with a cup of hot cocoa. "There's this girl at the high school. Her name is Nymphadora and she's got herself into some trouble that I think we can help."

Sirius chuckled, "What sort of name is Nymphadora?"

"The same sort as Sirius Lupin?"

"Ouch point taken." Sirius pointed towards a screw driver sitting by Remus's foot. "So this girl?"

"She's pregnant." Remus paused looking towards Sirius. "She doesn't want the boy to end up in foster care, but she's too young to take care of him."

"That's awful, her parents won't help her?"

"She doesn't have any Padfoot. They were murdered when she was a kid." Remus inhaled and bit the inside of his cheek. "How do you feel about being a dad?" He breathed out.

Sirius dropped the screwdriver, the screw still sticking out of the wood of the shelf. "What?"

"We could.... adopt the boy? Dora can come round see her kiddo, he'd be loved Pads."

"I just- I don't think- I can't Moony. I can't. I can't. I can't. I have to- I'll be back." Sirius was trying to catch his breath, to explain to Remus that he wasn't leaving for good.

"Sirius? Love, are you okay. It's okay we can wait. We can talk it out?" Remus reached towards Sirius who was standing up and heading towards the door.

"Yes- Talk. Just not now. I'll be back-I'll be back. " Sirius ran out the door leaving Remus sat near an unfinished bookshelf tugging at his curls.

++++++++

Sirius was still afraid of many things. He was afraid of cows, afraid of tight closed spaces, afraid of dragonflies. Fears come and go for Sirius all the time but being a father? Sirius has done that before. His kid ended up hating him, fell in line into a cult despite his many attempts to stop and was now missing.

Sirius approached a small brass cross. It was embellished with snakes and planted into the tree him and Regulus used to hide at.

"Hello Reg. I know i've not been here, well neither are you." Sirius laughed to himself. "Remus he asked me a question today. Asked if I wanted to be a dad. I ran. It's what I'm good at, you'd tell me that." Sirius wiped a tear from his cheek.

"Being a dad though? Not so good at that. I know logically that i was a kid too but i couldn't protect you, how am i supposed to protect him?" Sirius continued to chat to Regulus through all his fears. It had begun to get dark and Sirius had fallen asleep against the trunk of the tree.

+++++++

"Sirius?" Remus had shaken Sirius and he had begun to blink awake. Remus spent 3 hours trying to figure out where Sirius could have gone; he checked the park Padfoot liked to run in, the coffee shop Sirius ran too after he ran away and lastly, the small grave Sirius had planted for his little brother.

"Moony?" Remus sat down next to Sirius and leaned into his side.

"Good morning Pads. I think it's time we had that talk huh?"

"I'm sorry for running Remus." Sirius tilted his head on top of Remus'. "Having a kid outside of Reggie. I mean I know he's not my kid-"

"Sirius listen to me. Regulus will always be your kid. You raised him, you gave him food, you showed him laughter. You protected him from really evil people. This- His death? It isn't on you. You tried Sirius, you went back 3 times. Walburga cursed you every single time." Sirius shook his head.

"We haven't even found him! He's missing and he's dead. I can't do that to another kid." Sirius cried into Remus. "I'm scared I will miss that boy up too."

"You didn't mess up Regulus. Did you hit him?" Sirius shook his head. "Did you tell him you would only love him if he joined the Death Eaters?"

"I would never."

"Did you starve him when he cried?" Sirius shook his head again. "Okay good, so what did you do to him exactly Sirius?"

"I left him there. I knew what they would do."

"What would they have done if you stayed?" Remus let the answer wash over him. The potential death of Sirius Black sitting in the area around them.

"Can we name him?" Sirius asks eventually. "Regulus liked the name Edward, he always named the teddy bears I got him Edward." Remus laughed dipping his head down.

"He names his teddys... Teddy?"

"No Edward I just said!"

"Pads love, Edward is the long form of Teddy."

"Godric, Regulus was 70 years old?!" Sirius joined Remus in his laughter. For the first time since Regulus went missing, Sirius laughed in his memory.

[roomwithanopenfire]

2024 Writing Round Up

Happy last day of 2024!! I’ve been loving seeing everyone’s writing and art and doll round ups making their way around, but I waited until the very last second because I posted chapters of fic today ahaha

Thanks for tagging me: @run-for-chamo-miles @drowninginships, @monbons @emeryhall @confused-bi-queer

@rimeswithpurple @nausikaaa @prettygoododds @artsyunderstudy @noblecorgi

@alexalexinii @ileadacharmedlife and @best--dress

Rest of the post is under the cut because it is so long. 

FIC’S I’VE POSTED

First, I’ve posted 28 fics this year! 24 for them for Carry On, and 4 of them for Stranger Things. (One of the Stranger Things ones was technically posted last year, but I posted the majority of it this year, so I’m counting it for 2024.) 21 of these fics were for the Carry On Countdown. 2 of those fics are long completed multichapter projects, and 1 is a long uncompleted multichapter project.

According to AO3, I’ve posted 219,532 words this year, but we can subtract about 14.8k from that because AO3 counts work totals based on date updated and I posted the first 2 chapters of No Sweeter Drug in 2023 (so it’s actually 204,704) . This brings my total words on ao3 up to 288,701, so you can see how I really went crazy this year.

No Sweeter Drug (than just giving you my love) - 60k, Stranger Things, Nancy/Robin. Nancy and Robin had a whirlwind summer romance before their sophomore year, but Nancy left her behind, because Nancy Wheeler doesn’t date girls. But after the Upside Down, Nancy finds herself questioning who she even is. And she has to come to terms with her feelings for one Robin Buckley. This is the first stranger things fic I ever posted and I loved writing it. Seriously, I had so much fun with this fic. I’m pretty sure some of my best prose is in this one.

Proof of Life - 80k, Carry On, Simon/Baz. Vampires attacked Watford and Baz was Turned, but this time Natasha Pitch lived. What would Baz’s life be like growing up with his mother? How would Natasha feel about her son’s… condition? And what happens when you throw the Mage’s Heir into the mix? Omggg I had the best time with this fic. I’d been working on this for so long, it was absolutely insane to finally start posting it in March of this year. Thanks to @demadogs for betaing this and hyping me up so much, this fic wouldn’t be half as good without her. Also I got to join the fandom more when I started posting this fic, and I loved meeting all of you so much <3

Just Come Along - 8k, Stranger Things, Steve/Eddie. Steve’s estranged grandfather dies, and he’s the only one in his family who cares enough to make the trip. Eddie, despite barely being friends with Steve, agrees to come with. Along the way, secrets are shared, memories are made, and Eddie and Steve become closer than ever before… I wrote this for the Steddie Summer Exchange and it was my first time doing a fandom event! I had so much fun!!

The Way We Are - WIP, 11k, Carry On, Simon/Baz. Baz and Simon meet in a coffee shop not knowing that one of them is a vampire and the other a vampire hunter. After a tense encounter, both of them are left with questions about who they are and their morality. And as if that’s not enough, neither of them can stop thinking about the other… My COBB fic with @alexalexinii!! This is the only WIP I have to carry over into the new year, and I’m hoping to finish it up soon. I’m literally obsessed with the themes I have in this fic and I want to get them right.

i want an icee and a nice girl to date - 5k, Stranger Things, Robin/Nancy. Nancy doesn't know why Robin in her 8am class gets on her nerves. Maybe it's because she talks too much for so early in the morning. Maybe it's because she didn't seem appreciative of Nancy sharing her textbook with her. Or maybe there's no good reason at all. Eddie thinks Nancy's only two options are to either become enemies with Robin or fall in love with her. Nancy thinks Eddie's full of shit. But when she ends up in a dark movie theater with Robin, Nancy starts to see her in a new way… My fic for the Stranger Things Sapphic Big Bang with @ddoonnccnn !! I loved this little college AU and the art for it is ADORABLE (seriously, click on the fic just to look at the art, trust)

we can go forever - 3k, Stranger Things, Robin/Nancy. “I came from the ocean,” she said, like she was sharing a great secret. “That’s where I live.” 12-year-old Nancy does not believe her. There's no way that this girl is actually some sort of creature... right? Gift fic for @sweetronancer !! Percy ily and I wish you the bestest new year ever <333

What to Bring to An Abandoned Planet - 12k, Carry On, Multi (Simon/Baz, Penny/Shep and like a lot of friendships) Agatha, Baz, and Trixie are a small yet mighty group of space pirates who take down a transporter ship that holds Penelope, Shepard, and Simon on their way to relocating to a new planet. But once Agatha’s mighty ship—the SC Comet—falls way to space debris, the six of them have to learn to work together to survive on an uninhabited planet. I wrote this for @agni-ashes for the Secret Snowflake Exchange and I had wayyyy too much fun with this AU.

And then I wrote all 30 prompts for the Carry On Countdown!! This ended up being 21 fics, but here are a few of my favorites.

Agatha Wellbelove and the Six Sigils - 10k, Agatha gen fic. When Agatha ends up in a study in the White Chapel, she doesn’t think it’s going to change her life forever. When she finds a bag of coins with magickal sigils on them, she certainly doesn’t think it’s going to mean anything important to her. But when she starts having visions of the future… Well, she’s got to do something about it. I love Agatha actually. I find her character so fascinating. I had so much fun exploring her here, and I hope to write more about her in the future!

Some Bright Morning - 3k, Lucy & Simon. Lucy’s baby is the Chosen One. What does that mean? Why is he taking Lucy’s magic? What will Davy do to a child like that? Not feeling safe and not knowing what to do, Lucy turns to an old friend. I loved writing this fic so much!

i wanna go outside but i’m terrified it might be cold or too hot or too radioactive - 1.6k, Simon/Baz. Simon and Baz are the only ones left at Watford during Christmas break. Therefore, when the nuclear apocalypse hits, they are trapped in a bunker with only each other as company. Will they become friends or kill each other? Only time will tell… This was SO much fun to write. I think I had the most fun with this one out of all the Countdown fics.

I’m not going to link anymore, but I also wrote a GBBO au, a Penny turns into a vampire fic, a Mordelia POV fic that I actually LOVE, a short and sad Fiona/Ebb fic, a couple Fiona & small Baz fics, a 2nd person POV humdrum fic, and several other ones that I’m really proud off. I can’t believe I was able to finish the entire countdown, I’m so proud of myself!!

WORDS I’VE WRITTEN

I’ve also kept track of how many words I wrote monthly this year! I only started using a spreadsheet to keep track in mid-March, so the early months are retroactive and are probably underestimated compared to the middle ones. I also didn’t keep as good track each day in Sept-Dec, but I still feel that’s fairly accurate overall, I just don’t know my daily totals.  So check out my chart and graph!!

That’s a total of 186,286 words!!

I like looking at this because I can see where my motivation dropped off. When school started in September there was a huge dip, but I picked back up in November with the countdown fics! April looks really low, but it was a month of editing so I still did lots! Also, I posted more words than I wrote, which seems really silly, but I wrote all of No Sweeter Drug in 2023 same with most of Proof of Life

And now, because this post isn’t long enough already…

FUN FACTS

Of the days I kept track of my daily word totals (April-August), the day I wrote the most words was August 13th. I wrote 5,856 words of a still unposted Farcille smut fic. It’s extremely nsfw and I wrote almost all of these words in the backseat of a car (my parents were in the front) after driving back home from my out-of-state doctor’s appointments. I cooked up the whole idea while in an MRI machine lolll. (I will post it one day but it turns out editing smut is a lot less fun than writing smut)

Throughout the course of this year, my favorite writing font switched from Georgia to Lora. I love Lora so much now, she’s so cunty.

When I’m writing, chances are I’m listening to one of 3 things. This absolutely perfect playlist on youtube—I do my best writing with this but sometimes I’m not in the mood; one of two albums by David Bowie (1 or 2); or my vocaloid playlist (which i’m still curating, one day when it’s perfect and like 10 hours long i’ll share it)

Google docs new tab system is a lifesaver!! I could fit all of my COC fics on the same google doc, I love it. You don’t even want to know how many different documents I’d have for one fic before this system was introduced.

(Kind of unrelated, but I also started journaling late 2024 and now I can’t stop. Does this make me cooler? Perhaps not, but offloading my thoughts onto a page is very useful. Also I put quotes and doodles in there.)

LOOKING AHEAD TO 2025

I’ll be bringing one WIP fic from this year into 2025—The Way We Are. I honestly thought I would have finished it by now, but I lost my writing motivation and then gained it only for COC, but I’m hoping to finish writing the last two chapters soon. (I’ve told myself I can’t post anymore  of it until I finish writing it, which maybe wasn’t a good idea but oh well). I genuinely love this fic and the themes I explore in it, so I hope to finish and post more soon!

My main goal for 2025 is to just keep writing. I try to have a daily goal of at least 200 words a day, and the months where I stuck to that goal are some of the ones where I wrote the most. It takes me about 200 words to get into the flow and want to keep writing, so it ends up really effective. I have a newer, sexier, writing tracker spreadsheet for 2025 and I feel very inspired to fill it up. 

If you read this whole thing, I love you! This was a yap yet so it ended up long, so I'm hiding the sappiness down here. I've had SO much fun joining the fandom this year. I love and appreciate all of you, from the first time I was tagged in a wipsday on here, to everyone who's commented on my fics. The Carry On fandom truly is the bestest ever, you guys are so encouraging and make me want to keep writing forever and ever <3

I’m pretty sure most people who’ve wanted to have done this already, but be tagged anyways (sorry if I missed you if you've already done this):

@aristocratic-otter @arthurkko @beastmonstertitan @blackberrysummerblog @bookishbroadwayandblind

@bookish-bogwitch @brendughh @brilla-brilla-estrellita @cccloudsss (tyyyy for being such a good friend and the fastest beta everrrr) @cutestkilla

@facewithoutheart @fiend-for-culture @horsesarenotdeer @hushed-chorus @iamamythologicalcreature

@larkral @meanjeansjeans @m1ndwinder @raenestee @rbkzz

@shrekgogurt @skee3000 @supercutedinosaurs @talentpiper11 @thewholelemon

@valeffelees @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @argumentativeantitheticalg